


Cyclic: A Story of Beginnings and Endings

by TheGoblinWitch



Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Exploration in the Yautja Honor Code, F/M, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Hiding Out From the Law, Human/Monster Romance, Hunters & Hunting, Interspecies Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnant Character, Slow Burn, Teratophilia, pregnancy complication, trophy hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoblinWitch/pseuds/TheGoblinWitch
Summary: Thwei-n’ritja is an Elite among yautja. An Enforcer on a mission on the little blue Planet Earth, hunting down a  rogue Bad Blood. When things go wrong, his mission ends up leaving him with even more problems than when he arrived.Meanwhile, Mireya is is an average woman, living an average life. A child on the way, she's happily getting her life together, with the support of her father.Paths that never should have crossed find themselves entangled. Is it dumb luck or fate that they've met?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So begins the story of these star-crossed companions~  
The first chapter or so is a lot of build up, before our beautiful children actually meet.   
It is well worth the read though, if I do say so myself. 
> 
> As mentioned in tags, I would like to make a secondary disclaimer here as well. This story does have a character who is pregnant, and does have some complications throughout said pregnancy. (In fact, I had the same ones during my own years ago, hence my frame of reference. It's nice to see a relatable character once in awhile.) 
> 
> However, if this is something that could potentially trigger you, please be aware of it and use caution during parts of the story. I've tried to make it easy to skim past the 'medical' talk bits, if necessary.
> 
> Be sure to leave a comment and kudos to let me know if you do enjoy this story! I appreciate the feedback and it keeps me motivated to keep my stories going!
> 
> Now! On to our tale~

“Just try not to stress too much. You still have plenty of time for the issue to resolve itself. Most cases of placenta previa self-resolve before even being full term. Just to be safe, we did do a round of steroid injections to help the fetus’s lungs form though, alright? We’re trying to prevent any pre-term labor, but we’d rather be cautious. If there is any bleeding, you need to call right away and head directly to the hospital; if you go into labor and it hasn’t rectified you risk hemorrhaging. In which case, we’ll go with Plan B, as we talked about before and do an emergency cesarean.” 

Mireya nodded at the doctor, a short, thin-framed blonde woman with a cherub’s face. The only signs of her age were the start of crinkling lines next to her eyes. Crows feet, probably from smiling too much. 

She made her feel at ease. One of the many reasons she was glad to have her as her obstetrician throughout the unexpected pregnancy. As well as their previous acquaintanceship, this is. Even more so since it had been less than an easy one, and she was barely over half-way through. “Thank you, Doctor Hall.”

A gentle hand moved to touch her protruding stomach, the doctor giving both her and her child a comforting touch before carefully pulling down Mireya’s sweater. A smile twinkled in her eyes. “Oh, come now. I keep telling you to just call me Joyce, Mireya. We’re practically family.”

Mireya flushed slightly and sighed. “You say that, but I feel so bad. I barely remember you.”

The woman, Joyce, smirked. She rolled her chair away, rising so she could help the other woman stand as well. “I know. You know I like to tease you. You were so little when I used to babysit you for the colonel. I was still in my early years of high school! To think all these years later I get to deliver your own little one too. Where did the years go?” 

Joyce sighed, resting her cheek on her hand, losing herself in her memories for a moment.

Mireya chuckled and nudged the woman with her shoulder, snaking her arm under the elbow of the smaller woman. Arm in arm, they left the cold medical office, both of their spirits lifted by the casual turn of the conversation. 

Joyce walked with her all the way to the exit of the medical office, stopping just before the massive door and turning to the dark haired woman. “Tell your father hello for me, will you?” 

Mireya nodded, her cheeks overwhelming her eyes as she returned the blonde’s smile. “Of course. I’m going to go see him at his office before I leave base for the day.”

Satisfied with the response, the wisp of a woman pulled Mireya’s body down into a hug before sending her on her way. It always made her feel so strange to have to lean down to embrace the woman. She was by no means tall herself. Most people towered over her, in fact. It was just that the blonde woman was downright tiny. 

Mireya chuckled at the thought, tugging at her sweater sleeves so they covered her chilled fingertips. 

The cool, crisp temperatures of fall were finally setting in. It wasn’t downright cold yet; it wouldn’t be for some months. But it had finally reached a point where these early mornings where nippy, and if there was a breeze it would bite through you just a little too sharply for comfort. 

Mireya’s shoes pattered softly on the concrete below her feet as she walked the route she knew by heart. It took less than 20 minutes to make her way to the familiar building, navigating hallways in search of one particular office. Multiple recruits in full uniform stopped to nod at her or give her a smile, as well as an occasional office worker. Everyone was familiar with her by now. Many of them had watched her grow up. 

Finally facing a familiar door that read (COL Burnett) across the nameplate, she gave the door a quick knock. A muffled voice called out to her, telling her to come in. 

Stepping inside, her eyes slid onto the man she was looking for.

An older man sat behind a sparsely furnished desk, the only decorations on it being a few resin encased shell casings and some picture frames. “Hey Dad. How’re things so far today?” 

The man’s attention snapped up from his paperwork at his daughter’s voice, his eyes brightening. He quickly stood and walked over to her, ushering her towards one of the twin chairs facing his desk. “My little girl! What are you doing standing up? Sit down! Don’t go stressing my grandchild out! Hurry up, now!” 

Mireya laughed loudly. “Dad! I’m fine! Stop it! I swear, you are spoiling this child of mine and it isn’t even here yet.” 

The older man leaned down, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s hair. “Good.Your mother, God rest her soul, would beat me senseless if I didn’t give a little spoiling on her behalf as well.”

Grey eyes sparkled down at her with pride. 

They were the single trait that Mireya had inherited from her father. 

While he had light brown, nearly ashy blonde hair, now greying around the ears, she took after her mother and had deep brown, almost black hair. As thick as the night was long. Her deep tan that faded and darkened with the seasons was also thanks to her mother and her latinx descent. 

Since her mother’s passing, it had been often that people mistook her as someone else’s child. 

But her light grey eyes were the single feature they shared. 

The man rubbed his hand on her arm affectionately. “You look so much like her now. You remind me of her when she was pregnant with you, in fact. She would be so proud.” 

Mireya’s smile fell slightly, turning away. “I don’t know about that, Dad. I don’t think Mamá would approve of me having a one night stand at a military bar. Let alone this…” She waved at her taut stomach, the noticeable bulge showing from under her sweater. “Being the result of it.”

The man shook his head. “Trust me, my dear. None of that would have mattered. Your mother was a good woman. Hell, she put up with me. Even loved me. And that says a lot. She’d just have been thrilled to be a grandmother.” 

Mireya wiped a tear from her eye, rubbing her palm on her cheek. She gave a curt nod back and forced a smile. “If you say so, Daddy.” 

A wide smile crept across his face as he leaned against his desk. It had been years since she had called him the term, and it made his heart swell. “Yes. I do. Now tell me, how did your appointment go? How is my grandchild? And most importantly, how are you?” 

Mireya knew what her father meant. He was well aware of the high risk pregnancy. It was why he had insisted on her coming to a specialist on base. The fact that it was a family friend just made things even easier. 

Smiling, she pulled the recent ultrasound from her bag and passed it to him. “We’re both fine. Joyce says ‘hello’.” 

The man cooed happily at the black and white picture before handing it back. “They’re getting so big. I wish you wouldn’t be so secretive about if they’re a boy or a girl though.” A huff escaped him. It was very uncharacteristic of the stern man, and Mireya had to stifle a laugh. Then again, since getting the news of his daughter’s pregnancy, he’d seemed to soften considerably. It was almost unnerving.

“You know that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t want to make a fuss about sex or gender. It’s a new, more socially aware world. And I’d like to let them grow up without societal pressures straight from the womb. I just hope you’ll respect that.” 

The man let out a defeated sigh, but smiled slightly. “You and your bleeding heart, Mireya. Even if I don’t understand it, even I can do that much. I’m an old man, stuck in my ways. Just give me time and let me grouch about it in the meantime. I’ll get it out of my system before they’re born. I promise.” 

Mireya put a hand over her father’s. “Thank you, Dad. It means a lot.” 

Just as the man opened his mouth to respond, the lights in the office cut off, surrounding them both in darkness. 

Mireya blinked, confusion etching across her features as her brows knit together. 

Red backup emergency lights flickered on as an alarm started to buzz. 

She looked to her father, panic draining the color from her face. The moment the light filled the room, he was at her side, holding her arm and pulling her to her feet. 

A female, automated voice began to sound through the room, echoing through the outside hall as well. “Warning. High energy detonation detected in Anomalous Materials Laboratory.” 

The warning cycled through a few more times, the lights began to flash repeatedly overhead. 

Mireya looked to her father, anxiety coursing through her. She was unsure what to do and looked to him for instruction. This was his job after all. He was one of the top officers of the facility, though she was unaware what the full details of it were. She just knew that he oversaw things. It was supposed to just be a desk job, where he kept things running smoothly for some confidential government project. 

Her panic spiked high when she saw the blank stare on her father’s face. It was a look she had only seen a few times before, but it was one she knew was not good. If he was worried, she should be too. 

She felt his hand tightened on her arm as his attention flickered down to her, his tone suddenly very low and serious. “Mireya, I need you to evacuate. Go home. Take my SUV; it’s in the usual spot. Do not walk.”

Her eyes widened at his words, confusion mixing with her anxieties. “What do you mean? What’s going on? And what about you?” 

He shook his head firmly. “I need to be here to oversee things. People will be in a panic. It’s probably nothing. Probably just an accident in the lab. But just in case, I need to go take care of things. This is my job, Mireya. It will be okay. But I don’t want you here. It isn’t good for you. Either of you.” Pleading eyes catch his daughter’s attention. 

Another robotic voice rang out around them, announcing another alert, grabbing both of their attention. 

“Attention. Security breach in Sector C of Anomalous Materials Laboratory. Repeat. This is not a drill. Security breach in Sector C of Anomalous Materials Laboratory.  
All security personal report to Sector C of Lab 6." 

The man cursed under his breath, looking to his daughter again. “Now, Mireya!” 

Mireya nodded quickly, out of sheer instinct. She followed her father to the door, his hand at her back as he ushered her out. His eyes flicked back and forth, surveying the hallway. Only a few office workers remained, most confused and hiding out. Any soldiers had listened to the alert and reported to their positions. And any civilians with a lick of sense had evacuated. 

Another alert rang out, louder now that they were out of the office. 

“Attention. Containment breach detected in Anomalous Materials Laboratory. All personnel immediately report to Lab 6. This is not a drill.”

Panic finally leached into the man’s expression. He grabbed Mireya’s hand and started to rush her from the building. The labs were multiple floors down. Work and duty be damned, he was making sure his daughter and grandchild got out of here. 

A few soldiers and other officers caught sight of them, shouts of his rank and name echoing through the air. He shouted his acknowledgement, but continued on his path, dragging the woman along as gently as he could while keeping up his pace. 

Once they made it to the vehicle, he ripped the door open, shoving his key into the ignition. He turned to Mireya, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss into her hair. Just like he used to do when she was a little girl. Pulling away, he locked eyes with her. “Okay. Just go straight home. No stops. Lock yourself in. Don’t talk to ANYONE. Do not let ANYONE in. No matter who it is. I’ll be home as soon as I take care of things here.”

Mireya nodded, but felt tears start to well up out of sheer anxiety. She let out a small hiccup. Trying to force some levity, she barked out a tiny laugh. “C’mon, Dad. I’m almost 30. I can do that much…” 

She gripped his uniform’s sleeves, leaving deep creases in the formerly pressed fabric. “You have to come home fast. Don’t stress me out!” 

He hollowly laugh and nodded. “I’ll be home in time for dinner.” 

And with that, Mireya clambered into the tall vehicle, much too big for her short stature, and drove off, doing exactly as she promised and making a beeline for the mid-sized house just outside of the military base. 

Thwei-n’ritja registered the sounds of alarms ringing throughout the human establishment he had tracked the Bad Blood to. From what his scanners in his gauntlet could make out, there were significant amounts of weapons technology throughout the area, as well as a decent population of humans. It must be one of the human ‘military’ settlements. What a pain this would be to clean up. 

He had been an Enforcer for many decades by now, and had tracked and felled many Bad Bloods in that time. He was good at his work and he enjoyed it thoroughly. This one job in particular was proving to be an especially notable pain in his side though. Bad Bloods didn’t often flee to the small blue planet, but when they did, the amount of chaos they could bring about was not something that could be ignored. This one was not only proof of that, but a prime example. 

A gutteral noise rose from Thwei-n’ritja’s chest and he clicked his mandibles together in irritation. Best to get a move on and get a closer look already. 

Activating his cloaking device, he leapt from his makeshift perch and made his way toward the human development. 

Evading detection was an easy feat. He was light-footed, even for a yautja. It was part of what made him good at what he did. 

More alarms blared around him, a mechanical human voice sending out various alerts that he paid no mind to. He knew what they meant, without paying them any attention. The Bad Blood. But why was it here?

Thwei-n’ritja passed a pair of humans, one dragging the other and it only barely gave him pause. His instincts make him register that it was a male dragging a visibly pregnant female. 

He chittered in disdain. Humans had no honor. If a male yautja touched a pregnant female, yautja or otherwise, it would end with him dead. Either by the female’s hand or someone else’s. And it would be a well deserved punishment. 

He would have doubled back and killed the male on premise had he not been so busy. 

But no. He was a yautja on a mission. So he returned his attention forward, focusing solely on finding and terminating the Bad Blood. 

He found his way into the lower level of the human establishment. It had formerly been white and had a surgical feel to it. It looked to have been pristine, at one point. 

Now, blood stained nearly every surface. Red coated the walls, dripping down into shallow pools on the floor. Thwei-n’ritja assumed the floor had at one point been white as well, but it was just that. An assumption. There was not an inch of it that remained unstained. 

Bodies littered the floor. Some slumped over various tables and debris. 

Thwei-n’ritja’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room for signs of the Bad Blood. 

He paused, momentarily shocked, when his scanners instead picked up various bits of yautja technology on display further back in the lab. 

Stepping over the cooling bodies with ease, he stared down at the tech with annoyance. A half destroyed biomask sat in a display case. As well as a gauntlet, some smaller knives, which were obviously fashioned for a Young Blood, and a few other items. 

“Damned oomans.” He muttered in his native tongue.

They were collecting (stealing, he thought to himself) yautja technology. Studying it. This couldn’t be allowed. It was dangerous. 

Another mess to clean up.

After a moment, Thwei-n’ritja noted that the case had been broken open. And there were a few noticeably bare spots where pieces had been removed. 

“Pauk!*” He muttered the curse under his breath. That was why the Bad Blood was here. 

Thwei-n’ritja slammed a fist onto a nearby table, crumpling the steel beneath his fist with ease.

While not a huge ordeal, this would make things harder. An armed Bad Blood was much harder to eliminate. 

Normally, he welcomed the challenge with open arms. Hell, he would practically beg for it. He longed for the fight and challenge. 

At this point though, he was just annoyed and wanted off this watery marble. 

He was ripped from his thoughts when a low hissing noise caught his attention. He felt movement from behind, the air-flow changing ever so slightly. 

Turning on his heel, he reached out, extending the blades on his wrist gauntlet and slamming twin blades down and through the armored head of a r’ka*. 

The life drained from it instantly, the hulking black body falling limpy to the floor as acidic blood dripped down, beginning to melt a hole into the sub-basement floor. 

An exasperated groan escaped the yautja as his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling. 

He dropped his gaze and looked around the room, only just noting the large containers and circular structures. Some with labels, others with tubes flowing to and from them. 

All of them had been broken open. Glass littered the floor and tables around the tubes. Only a small amount of semi-transparent fluid lined the bottom of the broken containment units.

The final pieces of the puzzle fell into place. 

The Bad Blood had release the r’ka as a distraction. Or maybe just because it felt like it. A Bad Blood’s motivations were fickle, after all. 

Thwei-n’ritja remembered how large the human population was for such a small area. Annoyance seeped through his body.

He would need to work quickly, or else he’d have to resort to drastic measures to ensure the r’ka didn’t make it out and into the ooman’s general population. 

Stepping over the massive corpse, he made a mental note to return and eliminate the bodies. Normally he would do so immediately, dissolving all traces away into nothingness. But the current situation meant he had to do things out of order. He would just have to come back later.

Making his way down the abandoned hallway, he headed towards the sound of screaming oomans. Pulling his combistick from it’s holder at his waist, he pressed a button on the side, the mechanism releasing the white, steel barbed ends with a sharp, high pitched sound.

Let the Hunt begin.

~

*Pauk - Fuck  
*R’ka - Xenomorph


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you so much for all of the love and support this story has already received! Just wow! You guys amaze me.
> 
> Second, a head's up that this fic is going to be updated weekly for now. Updates will be going up on Fridays or Saturdays, depending on my schedule irl~ 
> 
> Now then, since we have all of that taken care of! I hope you all enjoy this chapter.   
It's pretty Thwei-n’ritja heavy. We have our first encounter towards the end though, ooh! We're getting there, I promise!

Thwei-n’ritja released a bellowing roar as he impaled another r’ka, using brute force to raise it in an arc over his head and slam the body into another as it tried to flank him. Jerking the forked end from the corpse, he pinned the wriggling r’ka to the ground with the blades of his wrist gauntlet. 

Silence finally fell over the room as he stood, glancing around at the chaos surrounding him. Bodies piled around him in stinking heaps, both ooman and r’ka alike. 

As he’d anticipated, the ooman camp was a perfect breeding ground and it took no time at all for them to spread. It had been half skill, and half luck, that he found the location of the Hive and been able to eliminate the worst of the outbreak. 

Giving the blades of his gauntlet a quick flick, he removed the worst of the blood and viscera before returning them to their holster. 

He needed to finish clearing the area and ensure that there were no more surviving r’ka. If any oomans had survived, he needed to eliminate the witnesses and any that had become hosts.

Letting his cloaking technology shift over his form, he made his way outside. Clinging to the outside of the building, he easily scaled the outer wall until he was on the rooftop, crouching low so he could take in the surrounding area and scan for remaining heat signatures. 

As he suspected, not many remained. A few oomans caught his attention. Most were in hiding, though a few looked to be on the prowl, weapons in hand. A growl rose in his throat. He would eliminate them soon enough. 

Continuing his scan, he made note of at least two remaining r’ka on the grounds. 

Targets in mind, and priorities sorted, he let his visor return to his standard HUD display. Gripping the edge of the building, his muscles tensed, about to launch into action, when he felt a surge of pain shooting through his shoulder. 

An ear piercing howl escaped him as he reflexively turned to grab what had harmed him. His hand grasped nothing but air though as a vague shimmer lept further away. 

Thwei-n’ritja gripped the knife still sitting in his shoulder and ripped it out, throwing it as far away as he could muster. Bright green blood dribbled down his shoulder and arm, pulsing in fresh bursts. It had been a good strike. 

He mentally cursed himself. He’d never been caught off guard before. A growl rose in his chest and his lower mandibles twitched aggressively behind his mask. He’d been too distracted. 

Even worse, he KNEW it was a distraction and he let his guard down anyway. 

Thwei-n’ritja rose to his feet, turning to fully face the Bad Blood. 

_“A’ka-Ta. You have broken the Yautja Code of Honor. I’m here to assist with your suicide.” _Thwei-n’ritja spoke lowly, his tone coming out as more of a commanding grown.

The shimmering form before him faded away slowly to reveal a yautja not much taller than he was. His dreadlocks had been cut away, and one of his eyes was a milky white, long since blind from some injury. Black and green patterns feathered together across his arms and legs. Pieces of mixed and matched armor graced the yautja’s body, and a mask hung from his claws. 

The yautja’s mandibles clicked rapidly, a laugh rumbling out of his chest before he locked eyes with Thwei-n’ritja’s mask. 

_“I have no intention of dying today, Enforcer. There is far too much fun to be had on this planet of pyode amedha*.”_

Thwei-n’ritja gave one final warning growl. _“I will make your punishment swift, A’ka-Ta. Though I warn you. I will enjoy it.”_

With his final words of warning, Thwei-n’ritja launched from his position. Pulling a knife from his belt, he thrust it up towards A’ka-Ta’s stomach, only to have the blade blocked and turned back on him. 

Dodging the blade with ease, he ducked down, swinging a leg out and catching the larger yautja behind his knees. Thankfully, this time his maneuver worked and he brought the larger creature to his knees. 

Adrenalyn pulsed through his system. The thrill of the hunt was finally building. His annoyance at having to pause his search for his intended target waned as his fighting instinct took over. This was why he was an Enforcer. 

Other prey bored him. This… looking death in the eye as someone his equal challenged him. Now this made his pulse race when every other moment he spent breathing was so utterly mundane. 

His own kind, especially the ones with no morals left whatsoever, fighting tooth and nail for survival after living their entire lives preparing and training for this fight. 

To experience that high, while defending yautjas’ code of honor… it made Thwei-n’ritja’s blood boil with excitement. 

Metal scraped loudly against metal as they clashed again. The Bad Blood had managed to push him off by now, getting into an offensive position and Thwei-n’ritja found himself blocking a flurry of attacks. 

Another knife was drawn and Thwei-n’ritja shouted as it was drug against his chest, leaving an angry welt in its path. 

Reaching up, he wrapped his hand around the larger yautja’s wrist, twisting it back as forcefully as he could. A’ka-Ta bellowed as pain erupted in the joint. A snapping sound reverberated through the air as Thwei-n’ritja pushed hard, cracking it back as far as he could, crushing the joint and making the hulking figure drop the knife in the process.

Finally releasing the shattered hand, he stepped back, regaining his footing. A laugh escaped him as he looked at the other yautja, rage making the figure’s eyes blow out wide as he cradled the maimed hand. 

He had angered A’ka-Ta, which meant from here on out he would fight sloppily. He would make mistakes. 

Thwei-n’ritja laughed inwardly. This battle was already won. 

As he expected, A’ka-Ta lunged for him first, wildly grabbing at him. Mandibles flared wide as he tried to take a bite from the Enforcer's shoulder. Thwei-n’ritja ducked to his left, letting the feral Bad Blood stumble, looking around in anger that his prey had evaded him. 

Again, A’ka-Ta dove for the smaller yautja, but this time, when Thwei-n’ritja went to dodge the blow, a large arm swept out, wrapping tightly around his waist. 

Both yautja were sent flying, momentum forcing them careening off the roof of the building towards the concrete below. 

Trying to rotate them so he wouldn’t take the brunt of the fall, Thwei-n’ritja suddenly felt his chest crack. All of the air in his lungs was forced from his body as he made contact with solid ground, bits of the hard earth shattering under and around him as the larger yautja landed on top of him, pressing him even harder into the ground. 

Taking in a gasping breath, a shuddering groan escaped him. He felt something in his ribs crack and heave, ignoring the ache while he willed himself to get up. 

With some maneuvering he managed to get his feet underneath the larger yautja that was pinning him down. With a heave, he kicked the brute off of him. Now that he wasn’t crushed from both sides, he scrambled to stand again, one hand gripping his bruised ribs as he moved. 

A snarl caught his attention, forcing his aching head to snap to attention. Already charging back at him was A’ka-Ta. 

Pushing every ounce of his energy into responding, Thwei-n’ritja lunged forward, straight into the attack. Wrapping his arms around A’ka-Ta’s extended arm, he released his wrist gauntlet and forced the blades downward. Through the meat. Through the bone. And finally down through the other side. 

A’ka-Ta froze for a moment. His face blank as understanding bled across his one good eye. He stared as blood dripped from the severed limb when Thwei-n’ritja dropped it to the ground tiredly. 

His broken hand limply gripped the bleeding stump as a roar rose from his chest, echoing around them. A look of utter loathing locked eyes with Thwei-n’ritja as he groaned out, his mandibles flared wide. 

_“I will make you pay for this, Enforcer. I will not forget this. You will have no need to hunt me, for I will hunt **you**.”_

Thwei-n’ritja trilled out a warning in return. Just as he went to lunge for the large yautja, planning on giving the final killing blow, A’ka-Ta managed to somehow get behind him. A sharp, heavy pain resonated through the back of his neck as the Bad Blood slammed his elbow into the back of Thwei-n’ritja’s neck. 

It was all it took to knock the yautja unconscious, the world fading to black. 

The feeling of cold rain across his body was what woke Thwei-n’ritja. His eyes fluttered open, glancing at the dark sky overhead. He mentally took note of where he was and what he remembered. 

Looking around, he found no sign of the Bad Blood. 

He hadn’t been out for long, but it had been long enough for his prey to escape him.

“Pauk!” Thwei-n’ritja cursed and slammed a fist into the shattered concrete. 

He shoved the thought to the back of his mind temporarily. He still needed to finish cleaning things up here at the human compound. Once that was done, he could tend to his injuries and hunt down the damned Bad Blood... and mount his skull front and center in his Trophy Room. 

Thwei-n’ritja shakily stood, ignoring the wounds and aches. Two r’ka and a few oomans. 

The hardest part would be finding them. 

Meaning they wouldn’t be trouble at all. 

He made his way through the human compound, not even bothering with his cloaking technology. Stealth was second-nature to him, and with most of the area already cleared out, he had no need for it. 

A dark blur caught his attention and he began to track it, tailing the creature with ease. It didn’t take him long to realize that both r’ka were together. 

Well, that would make things easier. 

The plasma cannon mounted on his shoulder rung to life, a blue triangular target forming on one of the creatures as it moved. He paused when he realized that the two creatures were pursuing something, but not in their usual manner. They weren’t ‘hunting’. They were tailing something. 

And that had Thwei-n’ritja’s interest. Maybe it was the Bad Blood.

The cannon on his shoulder retracted, folding back into it’s holster over his back and he finally activated his cloaking device, following after the two creatures. 

It wasn’t until some minutes later that he realized that the creatures were following an ooman vehicle. 

His anxiety rose slightly when he realized they were following it off of the ooman compound. He definitely couldn’t let them out of his sight now. 

It wasn’t much longer after that though, the ooman vehicle stopped at a medium sized domicile. The r’ka followed behind, stalking at a distance and creeping up along the sides of the house.

Recognition sparked in Thwei-n’ritja as he saw the ooman step out from the vehicle, panic on the pyode amedha’s face. 

It was the ooman that had been grabbing and dragging the pregnant female earlier, when he had first arrived. 

Suspicion and curiosity pooled within the yautja. 

Now, why would the r’ka be following him?

Mireya paced throughout the house, a soft hand stroking her swollen stomach absentmindedly. It had been hours since she had arrived home and she had heard nothing from her father, and had no word from anyone at the base. She had tried to call once or twice, but found that the calls could not even get through. That had only heightened her anxiety. 

Something was going on and she wanted to know what. 

Just as she was finishing another round of pacing the house, she heard the familiar click of the lock on the front door. 

A moment of fear swept through her, remembering her father’s words of caution. Grabbing the handgun from the table, she disengaged the safety and stepped behind the wall of the front hallway. Upon arriving home, she had immediately gone to her father’s gun safe, one of his many, and pulled out one of the smaller hand guns she was most comfortable handling. If things were as dangerous as he seemed to allude to, she wasn’t getting caught with her pants down. So to speak. 

The front door swung open, slamming shut behind whoever had entered. The sound of the locks immediately being engaged again resonating as the person panted heavily. 

Mireya paused, stilling her breathing as she listened carefully, her fingers lingering over the trigger of her weapon. 

A series of knocks rang out through the house and relief washed through her. She engaged the safety on the gun again, and let out a breath, stepping out into the hallway to face the man. 

It was something he had taught her early on, when she was still a child. In case of emergencies, they had a secret knock. It was how they could signal to each other. It had only been needed a handful of times, but when it had been, it was indispensable. 

Her father’s voice finally rasped out as he caught sight of her. “Thank God, you made it here okay. My little girl.” 

His face and neck were coated in perspiration, and his uniform jacket had been long since forgotten. The thin shirt underneath clung to him and was coated in dirt and sweat and blood. 

Worry still flooded Mireya’s thoughts as she took in her father’s disheveled appearance, rushing to him. “What’s happening? Please, you have to tell me, Dad!” 

The older man shook away her worrying touches and shoved past her. His own thoughts raced as a painful ache pressed at his chest. 

He needed to act, and fast. 

Rushing around the house, he opened a closet door, snatching up the bugout bags he kept prepared. He spoke quickly, under his breath, as he went to his gun safes and began to unpack a large rifle. “I don’t have time to explain, Mireya. Everything… everything went wrong. I don’t know what happened. But something very, very dangerous is loose now. The military won’t take long to start hunting it down. But until then, I need to make sure you are safe…” He seemed to pause for a moment. “It isn’t safe here anymore. Not for you.” 

Mireya wrung her hands, her mouth pursed. “Dad, you’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”

The man stopped packing and stood, looking at his daughter with sad resolve. “It’s too late for me, Mireya… That’s why we need to be quick. I’m going to make sure you get to safety and then…” His gaze drifted as his words fell away. 

Confusion blurred Mireya’s thoughts. “Why do you keep talking like that, Dad? You want to get away? We need to get to safety? Okay! Let’s do it! But why are you making it sound like you aren’t coming?” Tears welled in her eyes as she said the words aloud. 

A sudden noise ripped both of their attention from each other. An explosion shook the house as one of the houses walls caved in, two monstrous creatures battling in the wake of the debris. 

Mireya let out a shriek, her father gripping her and yanking her away from the center of the room as the monster’s brawled. Shrieks and roars escaped them as they fought fiercely, neither paying the humans any mind. 

Suddenly the larger of the creatures gripped the other by the head, roaring so loudly behind it’s mask that it reverberated throughout the room. Grasping the creature’s head tightly, it ripped with all it’s might and cleaved it’s head from its body, throwing it across the room before standing upright, victory bleeding from every pore. 

It’s attention drifted to the two humans finally, only seeming to just notice, or care, about their presence. It’s head tilted as it seemed to appraise them. 

Mireya stared in awe at the massive bipedal creature. It was covered in silvery white armor, far more advanced than anything she had ever seen, even on the military bases. Long black dreadlocks fell over it’s shoulders and back, littered with silver rings and decorative beads. She could vaguely make out a few feathers and tiny skulls braided into the dreadlocks as well. 

On the creatures face though, she found herself staring at a silvery, white mask. Sharpened points decorated the temple of each side, a well as one tall point, standing erect above the forehead of the tall mask. A blue toned symbol that reminded her of an ornate, backwards ‘Z’ graced the forehead. It was so sleek and beautiful. There was something about it that drew her gaze and she couldn’t figure out why. 

Maybe because so much of the rest of the creature was bare, except for the few armor pieces gracing its body. It also appeared to have vitiligo; while most of its body was a dark, muddy color, pale splotches showed across finely muscled limbs.

Her father’s voice finally shook her from her stupor, causing her to take a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. 

“Holy shit… it’s you… you’re one of them…” 

Mireya looked to her father. “What?” 

The man stared at the creature, both fear and awe mixing in his features. “A Predator.” 

~

*Pyode amedha - Soft Meat (Humans)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was it? Up to expectations? I hope so! 
> 
> Comments and Kudo's are appreciated! 
> 
> If you're eager for more of my content and are okay with 18+, I am participating in Kintober2019, so feel free to follow along with my daily updates and one shots this month!
> 
> Until next week, stay great, my lovely readers~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's that time of the week again!   
I hope all of you are having a good one, and that the change in the seasons is treating you all well.   
I know plenty of people have been getting stuck with early snow.   
Down here in the deep south we only just got our first day without scorching heat, so I'm appreciating the seasons finally shifting. I tend to work better this time of year anyway. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit of an emotional doozy.   
It hurt to write but it's necessary for future stuff to happen.   
Also, we're finally getting interactions between out star-crossed pair~

“A Predator.” The older man repeated. 

“They hunt the xenomorphs… those… aliens that you just saw. They’re basically big game hunters from space.”

Mireya squeezed her Dad’s hand as he slowly began to lead her backwards towards the hallway, leaning down to grip their bags.

Thwei-n’ritja eyed the two humans before him. He used his biomask to scan them, and sure enough, it was the same two from earlier. It was then that something caught his attention in his initial scan. 

His eyes narrowed as he watched the human male. 

Within moments the man hunched over, gripping his chest. A slew of curses tumbled from his lips, blood dribbling from his open mouth. 

“Shit, shit, shit! I hoped I had more time…” 

Mireya dropped to her father’s side as he collapsed, holding him while he spat blood into his hand angrily. 

He looked up at her, his stare intensely pleading. “I need you to get to the cabin. It’s far enough out, it will be safe there, no matter what happens. Hide out there.” 

Another surge of pain racked the man’s body as he gripped his chest, biting his tongue until it bled to try to control the seizing pain. 

Across the room, the yautja watched the scene unfold, curiously. Z'skvy-de* was always an unsettling ordeal. Generally pretty disgusting in nature. But watching the human’s last interaction with the female was… interesting. He would wait. Let the creature have it’s dying moment before he stepped in and gave the killing blow. 

The man clung to his daughter desperately. Tears finally breaking the damn and pouring down Mireya’s cheeks; salty droplets fell on her hands and across her father’s shirt. “No! I’m bringing you with me! We’ll go together. Stop scaring me!” Her fingers clung to him so tightly her knuckles were paling. 

The man shook his head sternly. “Mireya, I have one inside of me. It will kill me to get out. The only way to keep you and your little one safe, are to kill me before it has the chance. Please. Kill me and leave me behind.”

Mireya’s blood ran cold at the words. Her head suddenly felt light and she was sure she would pass out at any given moment. She began to shout, refusing to acknowledge her father’s request. “No! I refuse! This isn’t happening! I won’t do it!” 

Thwei-n’ritja couldn’t help the scoff that escaped him. This was why humans were weak. Even when it was for the good of another, they couldn’t give the honor of a kill. What a weak species. 

The man let out another pained shout as his chest began to crack audibly. The woman jolted away, watching in horror as her father’s chest began to rise unnaturally, blood pooling at the center. 

Pleading eyes met hers as a strangled whisper escaped the man’s lips. “It’s okay, mi hija.” 

Mireya’s breath froze as she clasped the safety on the gun she still had in her grasp. Before she could second guess herself, she pressed the muzzle to the temple of the man’s head, his eyes closing gratefully at the cool metal. “I love you, Daddy…” Squeezing her eyes tightly, she curled her finger, hearing the echoing sound and feeling the reverberation through her wrist. Silence followed and she took a sharp breath. 

As soon as that first breath escaped her, she collapsed into herself, barely a heap upon the floor. Sobs wracked her body as she screamed for her father, mourning and sorrow ripping through her so violently is was like a physical force tearing her apart. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched in awe. He had never seen such raw emotion before. The human had long since forgotten of his presence. A small part of him felt like he was intruding upon her moment, witnessing such painful grief. It was common for yautja grief to be loud. Even violent. But something about this was gut wrenching and shook the creature to his core in a way that unsettled him. 

Perhaps having watched her sudden resolve, flipping a switch and taking her, apparently father’s life. He held a shred of respect for her, for the action. 

He noticed the body next to her had started to shift and move. The creature inside, of course, still lived. She had merely killed the host, and it had already started to eject itself from the body. 

Refusing to allow the revolting creature to disturb the human’s grief, he stepped forward, resting on one knee before plunging a knife into the chest of the corpse, killing the creature in one fell swoop. He scanned it again, now that he was closer. It was a good thing he had taken care of it before it had a chance to eject from the host and escape. 

It was a Queen. This explained the r’ka following after the man so intently. 

Suddenly remembering the second r’ka, Thwei-n’ritja stood back up, glancing around the room with new fervor. Undoubtedly, it was nearby. And it would be angry that it’s young queen had been disposed of. 

Just as the thought crossed the yautja’s mind, a screaming form lept at him from the ceiling, tackling him to the floor. 

Inner jaws of the r’ka snapped at his mask as he barely held the creature an arm’s length away. 

Shoving the beast off of him, he screamed in warning at it, trying to intimidate it into backing away. Regretfully, the beast was far too enraged over the loss of its potential Queen. It charged at him with new vigor, not intimidated by the immense yautja in the least. 

Clambering up the wall next to him, it launched onto his back, gripping on tightly with its front claws. Pained roars ripped from Thwei-n’ritja’s throat as he reached back, trying to pry the beast from his back. 

A sharp tipped tail stabbed at him, missing multiple times before finally finding purchase and slicing against his bruised ribs. 

Thwei-n’ritja angrily roared at the beast, reached back and finally started to get a grip on the creature. Clinging tightly, he pried the beast from his back and hurled it forward, sending it tumbling through a wall of the human’s dwelling. 

His head snapped to the side as a shout caught his attention. 

“Hey, Big Guy! Get down!” 

Thwei-n’ritja’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the form of the pregnant human. She stood facing him, with a massive weapon pointed at his chest level. Her stare was deadly, and her stance wide and practiced. 

His gut instinct told him to react. Disarm. Attack. But then some lower level instinct took in her swollen form and, thankfully, kept him from reacting. 

He barely registered her words. He knew enough of a few human languages, even english, to manage. It wasn’t until she shouted louder, repeating herself did it fully click for him though. 

“Get the fuck down! Now!” 

Flattening himself to the ground, he ducked, barely dodging as the r’ka attacked where he had been standing. He rolled away, hitting the far wall and watching with intrigue as the human female took her shot at the creature. 

Mireya watched as the creature finally rolled out of the way, just in time for her to fire at the black alien, launching into the middle of the room. 

When she had heard them fighting, it snapped her from her moment of mourning, panic and instinct pushing her into action. 

These... xenomorph things. That was what had been in her Dad. Right? And this creature was fighting another one in her living room? That made it pretty clear which side she wanted to be on. 

She needed to act fast. 

She dove back to the gun safe. The handgun wouldn’t be enough firepower against anything that size. Let alone anything with any… alien biology, she assumed. 

So she grabbed the one thing she knew would take the bastard out. For sure. 

Aiming the massive rifle, she finally took her shot. In an instant, viscera exploded from the point of contact. Half of the beast’s body was gone, now strewn about the living room and melting away into acidic pits. The kickback sent her back, nearly falling onto her ass. Her shoulder would be bruised to hell, and she was pretty sure her heart skipped a beat. Thank God she didn’t have a heart condition.

Thwei-n’ritja whipped his attention the the human female, eyes wide as he stared at her and the weapon in wonder. He had severely underestimated her. 

He cautiously stood, eyeing the gun, as well as the panting human. 

Mireya stepped over to the alien, mentally noting that she barely came up beneath the creature’s chest. Damn he was tall. Was his head skimming the ceiling? The bastard.

She looked at the elephant gun in her hands and shrugged. “Daddy… Daddy always had this saying. Said you should ‘always bring enough gun’.” 

Mireya glanced up at the creature. “Wasn’t sure what it would take to take that ugly son of a bitch down, so I figured, go big. Daddy always wanted to go on a safari one day, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. So he got the gun and said he’d just live vicariously.” 

Another single-shouldered shrug. This time she flinched slightly, the bruise already forming. 

The yautja’s head tilted slightly at her pained sound, curiosity peaking. 

Mireya shook her head. “I’m fine. Just gunna be sore for awhile. I’m way too small for so much gun. I just… I figured, if you’re the guy taking these ugly sons of bitches down, maybe I should have your back.”

An amused chuckle escaped Thwei-n’ritja. 

As the laugh rumbled in his chest though, a sharp pain radiated through his chest and back. A sudden fire burning through him so hot he felt like couldn’t breathe. 

Panic swept across Mireya’s face as she watched the creature let out a pained yowl. It crouched down, a hand wrapping around it’s torso. She vaguely heard wheezing breaths behind it’s mask. 

Tossing the rifle onto the remaining counter, she hurried to the creature’s side. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Thwei-n’ritja shoved the female away, taking a staggering step away from her as the pain became sharper. The burning felt like it was eating away at him. His mind raced as he tried to take a mental tally of his injuries, figuring out what was causing this. 

A gasp behind him caught his attention and he whipped around to look at the human again. 

Mireya grabbed his chest plate, forcing him to face away from her and crouch down. Initially, he didn’t move an inch. It was like trying to turn around a tree trunk. 

Once he seemed to get the message, he squatted down so she could look at his back though. 

As she did, he began to realize that his chest itself was the source of the pain. Whatever she had seen must be the point of origin. Couldn’t hurt to let the little human be a second set of eyes so he knew what he needed to do. 

A slew of words he didn’t register escaped her. Turning his head back, he tried to meet her gaze, only to see her look at his back in distress. 

Mireya glanced at the backplate of the armor, taking in the extensive damage. The thing that stuck out the worst to her though, very literally, was a pronounced black claw, protruding from the creature’s armor and hind ribs. 

That xenomorph creature had gotten a claw into him and gotten it stuck in deep. 

A rasping breath escaped the creature. The Predator, she reminded herself. 

Instinct began to take over. She silently thanked her father for the years of emergency training he put her through. He’d always insisted that, even though she had no intent of going into the military herself, she needed to know emergency survival. Bugout emergency lingo, survival, combat, weapons. And, of course, medic training. 

She’d had enough formal training at one point that she considered going into nursing, but just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her bleeding heart hurt too much for it.

Standing up, her tone changed to a firm one. 

“That bastard from just now got into you, and good. I need to remove it. Follow me, I’m going to need tools to do it. I have some in a kit in the other room.”

Thwei-n’ritja watched the female suspiciously as she walked away, her demeanor changing in a heartbeat. 

She paused, turning to look at him as he stood there, unmoving. 

Walking back to him, she gently took one of the massive, clawed hands between both of hers. 

A whisper barely brushed past her lips as she stared into his mask. 

“Come on… no ulterior motives… you seem like the only one actually fighting these things… Trust me... Let me help you.”

Curiosity stirred in Thwei-n’ritja again, snuffing out his unease as he looked down into soft grey eyes. He found nothing but sincerity in them. Giving in, he cautiously followed the tiny human to the other room, rasping breaths making each step laborous and strained. 

By the time they made it to the other room, Mireya noticed how hard it was becoming for the creature to stand, let alone breath. Getting him into the master bathroom with her, she managed to get him to sit down. He seemed much more compliant now. Whether that be because of the pain or because of her words, she was unsure. 

She sat at the edge of the tub, facing his back as she worked. She’d given up on using medical tweezers or clasps. The blood seeping from the beast’s severed digit was obviously acidic and was eating away at any fine tools far too quickly to be of any use. 

Of course, this was also the reason the injury needed taken care of so urgently. 

The acidic blood wept around the wound, eating away at the armor and was working it’s way quickly down into flesh. 

Mireya listened to the gasping breath for a moment longer before rushing off to grab her father’s tool chest from the garage. These were strudier and larger. They should give her longer to work before the acidic fluids could eat away at them. If she were lucky, they would also grant her a better grip on the large obtrusion. 

Pausing for only a moment, she stood in front of the sitting Predator, who looked at her as if in a daze. “You may… you may be able to breathe better without the mask. Unless you need it to breathe. But this is going to hurt. I don’t want you to pass out if you hyperventilate… Do you understand?” 

Thwei-n’ritja listened intently, processing the words. 

There was a pause before he nodded. He raised a claw to the side of his biomask, hesitating for a moment before gripping the release valves and pulling them away with a soft hiss of air. 

Once the pressure had been regulated, and the airflow matched appropriately, he gently lifted the mask from his face. His mandibles twitched in relief at the free space and he took a deep breath. While this planet’s atmosphere was harsher on his system, being able to take a deeper intake indeed was a relief in that pained moment. 

His gaze slipped to the female, unsure what her reaction would be to his unmasked features. 

Mireya stood, processing the creature before her as it removed it’s mask. 

Behind the sleak silvery white, were four tusked mandibles, that seemed to click together in relief at being freed. A second interior mouth sat within them, with a soft, pink fleshy skin around them. 

The same vitiligo pattern continued on the creature’s face. There was the same reversed ‘Z’ shape on his forehead. It looked like a scar, almost. A scar ran down the side of his face, tearing the flap of skin between it’s left mandibles. 

A soft hand raised to touche the spot, but she stopped herself, quickly returning to his back with the new tools in hand. 

Pulling out a set of pliers, she gripped them around the appendage. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Okay. Now this is going to hurt. If it hurts, and you need to yell? You yell. That’s okay. Just do NOT MOVE. You ready?” 

Thwei-n’ritja gave a curt nod, his muscles tensing under her grip as she spoke. 

Gritting her teeth, Mireya clamped down hard on the appendage and proceeded to pull it free, inch by excruciating inch. 

An ear splitting howl escaped Thwei-n’ritja. As the part shifted, more of the acidic blood shifted within the wound, burning from the inside out. 

The tool was already starting to melt away, but Mireya gripped tighter, refusing to give up after having gotten it as far as she had. 

With a final tug, the tool snaps in her grip, the long black talon falling free from the blistering wound. 

A whine of a gasp escapes the yautja as the wound is finally open to the air, making it burn with new vigor. The inside of it bubbling and popping. 

“Shit! Oh no you don’t.” 

Mireya grabbed the showed head and tore the hose down, cranking the cold water on as fast as she could, strong-arming the creature closer over the tub as best as she could muster. 

She immediately began to flush the wound with cool water, cleaning out the remaining acidic blood and soothing the blistering flesh.

A bittersweet mixture of relief and a new, sharper pain overtook Thwei-n’ritja. He silently wondered how the female had learned to do this kind of care, but shoved it away.

While he could have handled it himself, it would have been hard. He’d have had to try to get back to his ship to be able to perform surgery on his own back without assistance. 

He tried to take in a deep breath, when a rasping, gurgling sound escaped him. 

Alarm crossed both his and the human woman’s faces. 

Turning off the faucet, Mireya pressed a towel to the wound for a moment, quickly moving to take off the backplate of his armor. 

Thwei-n’ritja resisted for a moment, but gave in, helping to unclasp the strap holding the piece on as his chest popped and heaved. 

The second his back was bare, Mireya pressed her head to his chest, ear flush with his warm back as she listened closely. 

Her tone was stern as she gave him an order. “Breathe.” 

Without pausing to question her, or to question his sudden obedience, Thwei-n’ritja did just that. 

Gasping, he felt a wet pop as he choked on a breath, his chest aching. He pressed a hand to his chest, annoyance bleeding across his face as his mandibles clicked away. 

Mireya raised her head, scowling. 

“Fuck… you’ve got a fluid pocket. Whether from the acid wash or the acid itself. The wound caused a pocket and now you risk aspirating… at least if your biology is ANYTHING similar to human anatomy… which from how you’re popping when you breathe, I gotta say close enough…” 

She stood to step around, her hands slipping anxiously to her hips. 

“I can help, but you gotta trust me one more time… okay?” 

Thwei-n’ritja stared at the human long and hard, mulling over her words. He should leave. He could handle the rest from here. Probably. He’d survived worse. 

Against his better judgement, he gave a nod. The ooman had saved his hide and taken down a r’ka, as well as treated him thus far. He would see it out, at least. 

Seeing his nod of agreement, Mireya grabbed the severed claw from the floor, holding it carefully in a towel. Most of the blood had washed or burned away, but the inside still clung to it, oozing from the end. 

“Can you hollow this out? And cut it at this joint? I need it completely cleaned out and open on each end…” 

Thwei-n’ritja eyed the appendage cautiously but nodded, taking it from her grasp. He worked quickly, managing to do the task despite the small size of the claw and his confusion around the request. 

While he worked, Mireya cleaned the wound and began to wrap it, packing it with as much care as she could muster. Once she was done, she began to sterilize a spot next to it. 

Thwei-n’ritja gave the female a curious look, handing her the appendage, which was now merely a black hollowed tube. 

Opening her hand towards him to pointed to the blade he had just been using. “Can… I use that? I don’t think anything I have in the med kit is going to be strong enough…” 

Thwei-n’ritja’s caution rose. Some of the spine-like hairs stood erect across his skin. 

He gripped the blade, handing it to her, but letting out a low growl of warning. As the noise tried to escape from his chest, it gurgled causing him to cough, his breathing becoming harsher by the moment. 

Mireya firmed her resolve. “Now listen. I’m trying to help you, so I need you to trust me! I’ve got to work quickly. I know I said to stay still earlier… but this time it’s even more important… I need to use this…” She held up the hollowed out appendage. “To make a chest tube so I can drain the fluid from the pocket in your chest. Do it wrong and you’re dead. Do it right, and you’ll be able to breathe again. So hunker down, stop growling at me, and stay still. Got it?” 

Thwei-n’ritja bit down on his cheek at the lecture, turning his head away and grumbling to himself. 

He shivered slightly, receiving a soft ‘whap’ in response when he felt tiny, soft hand start to feel along his ribs, searching for their mark. 

Leaning down, she placed her ear to his chest one last time, listening to his breathing and pressing her fingers between the bones one last time before muttering out a warning. 

“Here we go, Big Guy. One. Two. Three!” 

As soon as she finished counting, Mireya slid the knife in between the creature’s ribs, just far enough to touch the pocket she heard in his chest. 

Thwei-n’ritja bellowed in pain, grabbing the porcelain next to him and shattering it out of reflex. 

His head whipped to glare at her for daring to harm him, let alone with his own blade. 

As quickly as she had acted before, Mireya removed the blade, simultaneously slipping the makeshift drain into the wound. 

Green blood seeped at the edges as she packed gauze around it, holding it in place while she taped the drain into place while it did it’s work. 

Muttering soft praises under her breath, she managed to get the hulking figure to lay at an angle, allowing the drain to work easier. Cloudy fluid began to dribble from the wound, a mixture of water, the alien’s own blood, and some bits of acidic blood from the xenomorph all coagulated into a mass. 

Thwei-n’ritja glanced down wearily, his irritation quickly fading, as the fluid drained from his body, the female still gripping his body and holding the drain as she watched it work. 

Whatever crude treatment the ooman had done, it was working. He could already feel his shaky breaths coming easier, and he could feel the relief of the fluid leaving his body. 

The burning sensation in his chest only just now waning. He’d definitely had some of the r’ka stuck within him. There was no more denying it. Whether he liked it or not, the ooman had saved his life. It surely would have burned him hollow, from the inside out, long before he’d have reached his ship. 

He was ripped violently from his thoughts, his gaze snapping forward, when he felt a soft hand on his brow. 

Mireya traced her fingers over the crest of the creature’s brow, pulling it from whatever distressing thoughts it seemed trapped in. 

“See? I told you it would be okay if you trusted me. The worst is over now… once this is over, I’ll get it removed and patched up and you can be back to kicking more alien ass in no time…”

A smirk played at her lips as she watched the creatures mandibles twitch. She silently wondered what the action meant, curiosity bubbling within her. 

Her question seemed to answer itself though as a chattering sound, reminiscent of a laugh rumbled from the creature’s chest. 

Thwei-n’ritja couldn’t help but think what a strange lou-dte kale* he had stumbled upon. 

~

*Z'skvy-de - birth of a xenomorph (chestburster) from a host  
*Lou-dte kale - child-maker (female)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF I hope everyone enjoyed this update! Until next week~
> 
> As always, remember to leave a kido if you enjoy this piece! Or just leave a comment!   
Comments and kudos are us fic writers bread and butter.  
We eat that shit UP.   
<3   
Even when I don't respond to each and every one, I rub my grubby little hands all over it and cherish each one~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this week has treated all you lovely readers well!   
This week's update is an anticipated one!  
Our big guy finally starts to talk to our little spitfire of a human.   
Questions get answered and an offer is made~

As soon as Mireya had removed the drain from Thwei-n’ritja’s chest and wrapped the wound, the yautja was on his feet again. 

He still ached terribly, but he was at a functioning point at least. 

His breathing finally unobstructed and clear, he inspected his backplate, ignoring the ooman female as she watched him. 

The armor was useless now, the acidic blood having eaten away at far too much of it for it to be salvageable. It wouldn’t be a severe loss though. So long as he could make it back to his ship, he had spare armor tucked away. Thankfully, it was not far from his current location. 

He could make it there easily, and then back to the human encampment to clean up and do a final sweep for any remaining r’ka.

Mireya watched the Predator work in silence, inspecting his gear quickly and efficiently, with a military precision that reminded her of the soldiers she’d been raised around all her life. 

As he rose, he began to fiddle with the strange gauntlet on his arm, a blue display appearing before a subtle chime range from it. 

She watched him reach down, grabbing the white mask with the sharpened spikes on it, and place it over his face again with care, taking a moment to attach the cables on the side. 

He barely turned and acknowledged her, giving the bandages, still soaked with bright green blood and puss, a cursory glance. 

Thwei-n’ritja gave a nod of thanks, to which Mireya returned awkwardly. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, Thwei-n’ritja had to duck down from one room to the next, taking his time now that he wasn’t being hurriedly yanked through the hall. 

The yautja paused, staring at the bubbling mass that was once the r’ka that he had been warring with. The one the female had killed. By all rights, that kill meant she had succeeded in her Chiva.*

Turning his head, Thwei-n’ritja eyed the ooman behind him. She had followed behind, giving him a cautiously wide berth. 

Stepping over some of the decaying viscera on the floor, Thwei-n’ritja snapped off one of the remaining claws from the creature’s hand and knelt down so he was at the tiny ooman’s height, facing her. 

He pointed to the claw and then pointed to her, trying to communicate his intent. He would use speech if necessary, but the english language was harsh and difficult for him. He only used it when necessary. 

Mireya stared at the creature in confusion. 

“I-I’m sorry… I don’t understand what you want…”

Thwei-n’ritja huffed in frustration.

He tapped the center of his forehead, indicating the mark on his mask. 

Mireya stared for a moment longer until understanding slowly seeped into her eyes. 

“Oh! Oh, that mark on your forehead! It means you killed those things! So those are like… a right of passage or something! Am I right?” 

Thwei-n’ritja nodded at her, holding out the claw again expectantly. 

Mireya eyed it, understanding dawning on her. 

“So you want… to mark me with it?” 

The yautja huffed again. He was beginning to take back his thoughts on this ooman and wonder if she was actually quite dim. 

Mireya took note of the annoyed huff, ringing her sweater in her hands. The thought of a mark on her face worried her slightly. While she wouldn’t personally mind it, it could cause potential problems…

Questioningly, she slid a hand to her neckline, tugging the neck of her sweater down to show the top of her breast, towards her shoulder. 

“Is… is here okay?” 

Thwei-n’ritja stared for a moment. He internally scoffed. Why wouldn’t she wear her Chiva mark with pride? Why hide it away? 

But he also knew oomans were strange in terms of modesty and exposure. Maybe it was so only those who were worthy would see it, having to earn their right to see it. 

He gave a soft nod, gently drawing the claw across the soft fleshy skin, dragging the acidic blood across her flesh in practiced movements until the mark of his clan graced her skin. 

Mireya grit her teeth, refusing to let out a peep as the creature marked her. 

When it finally pulled away, she glanced down to see a simple design left across her on the top of her breast. As gently as she could, she re-covered her chest with her sweater, careful of the tender flesh.

Looking back up to the creature, it gave her a nod before rising and setting back to work.

The yautja pulled a small container from it’s waistband, pouring some of the blue liquid inside over the alien bodies sprawled across the floor. 

Thwei-n’ritja gave pause as he came to the ooman male, giving the female a glance until she looked away. 

Once she had, he knelt down, proceeding to let the body dissolve away until nothing remained. Until there was no sign the r’ka had ever been in the home, besides the destroyed walls and holes in the foundation.

Finally finished, Thwei-n’ritja went to leave, not bothering to exit through the front door when the side of the house provided a much larger means for his large frame. 

As he stepped over the rubble, a soft voice called after him, making him freeze just as his cloaking technology had activated. 

Mireya rest a hand on the side of the house, watching the creature leave as a soft shimmer began to overtake it’s form, causing it to mostly disappear from sight. 

“You’re going back, aren’t you?”

Thwei-n’ritja nodded, until he remembered that his cloaking technology left him nearly indistinguishable from the background, to her naked eye. 

He grumbled to himself, contemplating ignoring her and simply leaving. 

Instead, he growled out a response, bothered at the effort. 

“Yes.” 

Mireya jumped at the voice, not expecting a response, in truth. Let alone anything in english. 

Thwei-n’ritja audibly laughed at the ooman’s shock. Maybe it had been worth responding after all. 

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to ask another question before he could fully evade her. 

“Then, let me come with you. I can help hunt these things.” 

Thwei-n’ritja stared down at the ooman, momentarily impressed with her bravery. 

He took in her form and shook his head, forgetting she could not see him, yet again. 

“No.” 

The ooman woman puffed up angrily at his denial. 

“Why not?!” 

Thwei-n’ritja deactivated his cloak, stepping back into the room for a moment to loom over her tiny frame. 

Kneeling down, he outstretched a hand, pressing it to her stomach. 

Mireya froze, feeling the intense stare meet hers, even through the pristine mask. It set her hair on end in the strangest of ways. Not fear, but something else entirely. Something much more primal. 

She glanced down to the massive hand over her stomach, understanding coming over her, mixed with frustration. 

She clenched her fists tightly, glaring at the creature. “And why should that matter! I can fight! You saw me just now! Hell, who just did surgery on you?!” 

Thwei-n’ritja stayed perfectly still, allowing her to vent her rage at him. Were she yautja, she would have done far worse to him, and he vaguely wondered why she did not. She was clearly capable. 

Once she paused to breathe and stare at him expectantly, he spoke again, his alien voice rasping over the foreign words. 

“Life givers not hunt… Life givers… not hunted… Code of Honor. Will not allow.”

Mireya processed the words.

“So… because I’m pregnant… that’s why you didn’t attack me? And that’s why you won’t let me help?... That’s what you’re saying?” 

Thwei-n’ritja nodded. 

Mireya’s mouth pursed in agitation, but she bit down her words. She glared away, focusing on something else in the room, anything else, to keep from looking at the alien. 

She felt like a scolded child being put in time out. 

All for being pregnant? What in the hot hell was that. She couldn’t tell if this was misogynistic or respectful as hell and that internal battle had her frustrated even more. 

Thwei-n’ritja could practically feel the ooman’s frustration coming off of her in waves. 

Seemingly appeased though, he rose to his feet, making his way to leave again. He paused to glance back at the pouting ooman one last time before leaving, pointing at her before saying, “Stay.”

Mireya practically snarled in response, instead choosing to stick out her tongue at the creature as soon as it took it’s leave. 

Instead of smug satisfaction it simply left her feeling even more childish though. 

She looked around the ruined house, an empty sadness settling into her gut. 

Her eyes settled on the spot her father’s body had once been, now merely a stain on the once pristine floor. 

She knew her father would have felt the same. Even if she were not pregnant, he would have been hesitant about her fighting some great unknown. But at least then, he did indeed let her. He had taught her to, even. She was familiar with what she needed to do to survive. But since becoming pregnant, it was about keeping her child safe. Which, regretfully, meant keeping herself safe. Not throwing herself into danger. 

Stepping over the spot, almost afraid to touch it, Mireya began to gather up the bugout gear her father had been grabbing when he had gotten home. His words rang in her ears as her options laid out before her in her mind.

She made a detour to her room, packing an extra bag of clothes and belongings, since she had a moment to do so without being under duress. It also gave her a moment to think. 

Making her way outside, she loaded all of the bags into the back of the black SUV, with plenty of room to spare. 

She packed the elephant gun, but chose to forego the rest of the items in the gun safe. They were unnecessary where she would be going. These were handguns; at the cabin, she’d be armed to the teeth. 

With one final trip, she packed a box with dry goods. Hopefully the stock at the cabin was taken care of, especially with hunting season just around the corner. Her father was good about keeping it ready for extended stays, especially coming up on the cooler months. But just in case, and in case she was unable to get to a store for awhile, she was packing up supplies. 

“As Daddy always said… better safe than sorry…” she muttered under her breath as she slammed the back hatch of the SUV shut. 

Even with packing obscenely more than she should need, the SUV had excess space. 

She was just one person after all. 

Clambering into the front seat, she stared at her and her father’s home one last time, unsure when, or if, she would see it next. “At least until this settles down… I promised, Daddy…” 

Gripping her fingers tightly around the steering wheel, Mireya backed out of the driveway. 

Her decision made, she turned onto the quiet street and drove into the calling darkness. 

Thwei-n’ritja returned to the human encampment quickly, trying to focus solely on his mission at hand. 

It was difficult as thoughts of the curious ooman female kept creeping into his mind. 

Shaking the thoughts away, he barely suppressed a growl when he saw that more oomans had already arrived to replace the dead, flooding the area. 

Bodies were being transported back and forth between areas, as other oomans with various weapons and sensors seemed to be working away. 

Well, this would make things more annoying. 

Thwei-n’ritja silently thanked Paya that he was as stealthy as he was, moving silently between the oomans until he found himself in the area they were gathering the corpses of their comrades. 

At least they made this part easy for him. 

Working quickly, Thwei-n’ritja disposed of the bodies, moving on before any of the oomans could return and notice him. 

Tailing after a cluster of oomans heading back into the depths of the building, he made his way back to the basement levels. 

There, he was able to find the r’ka bodies as well. Those took longer to dispose of. He had to keep watch over his shoulder, trying to be both quick but thorough before any of the lingering oomans could notice his actions. 

He wanted to be finished and long gone before they did. 

It seemed his luck had finally run out though, as shouts began to ring out among the oomans. 

Someone had noticed the disappearance of the bodies, leaving barely anything in its wake. 

Thwei-n’ritja growled low in his throat, dumping the remaining blue fluid over the r’ka corpses. 

No time for care, it would just have to work quickly and hope for the best.

Leaving the bodies to dissolve, he stormed over to the familiar display case, eyeing the various yautja gear still on display. 

All that was left was to retrieve this. To keep yautja technology from the oomans at all costs. 

Thwei-n’ritja grabbed the items, yanking a satchel from his belt and opening it to hold the pieces. 

Once all of the gear was in the bag, Thwei-n’ritja threw it over his shoulder haphazardly. 

Mission accomplished; now he just had to get out.

As he turned around to take his leave, he found himself staring down the barrel of an ooman’s gun. 

Well this was embarrassing. He’d only been taken by surprise twice now in his entire life, and both times were in the space of 24 hours. 

That couldn’t be allowed to stand. 

Reaching up, Thwei-n’ritja gripped the barrel of the gun, shoving it upwards, letting the shot fire into the ceiling. 

As soon as it had, he grabbed the ooman by the throat, lifting the man up and slamming him into the floor, crushing his skull in the process. 

Shaking off his bloodied hand, Thwei-n’ritja quickly dashed down the hallway. He needed to get back to his ship. 

He’d been so distracted with the ooman woman earlier that he had forgotten to go to his damn ship before making his way here. And now that he had the yautja technology back, he needed to stash it away more than ever. 

A howl erupted from his throat as pain shot through his leg. 

A shot from an ooman weapon had grazed him. Looking down briefly, he saw a chunk of flesh missing from the side of his leg, neon blood oozing from the grazed wound.

He whipped his head to snarl at the ooman that had attacked him, but what he faced was an absolute war machine. 

Dozens of men stood behind some kind of tank, specially outfitted to hunt his kind. To hunt him. 

Thwei-n’ritja felt blood rush in his ears as he charged towards it, the familiar pulse of battle finally rushing through him. 

He grabbed onto the barrel of the tank, ripping it upwards as he let out a feral yell. The metal bent and cracked, refusing to give completely, as it screamed it’s own protests. 

It was just enough though. The sound of the machine trying to fire rang out as a chain reaction triggered. Heat built up inside the machine below Thwei-n’ritja’s feet as he slammed himself away, getting as much distance as he could muster between himself and the machine. 

He could feel the reverberation from the explosion, the heat against his back as a colliapy of screams rang out when the machine self destructed from the strain. 

Thwei-n’ritja pressed a hand to his rubs, feeling blood seep from his reopened wounds as his breathing became more labored. 

In prime condition, this was an easy fight. Hell, this would be an easy fight for an unblooded. But with his previous injuries, and how long it had been since he’d had sufficient rest, he was struggling. 

He dragged the bag up again, slamming it over his shoulder as he cursed, quickly evacuating. 

He made a mental note to come back and kill every last one of the oomans just for being pests.

His attention was snapped from the blurry thoughts when he heard a scream ring out from across the open area though. 

The squeal of tires rang through the air as a large black vehicle stopped mere yards away from him. The side door suddenly opened to reveal the ooman woman, leaning across the front seats and waving her arm at him as she shouted at him. 

“Hurry up! Get the fuck in before they catch up!” 

Thwei-n’ritja blinked in confusion before looking around. Thankfully, the chaos behind him was still ensuing, but the ooman was correct that it wouldn’t take long for them to recover. 

Stepping into the vehicle, he had to duck his head to get into the cramped space. 

Tossing the bag into the rear part of the vehicle, among a variety of other bags and boxes she had already placed there, he slammed the door shut, having to take care not to rip it off the hinge in his haste. 

Mireya grinned as she watched the confused alien squash himself into the SUV. 

While it was massive and roomy for her, the creature’s head was easily skimming the roof and his knees looked downright knobby and uncomfortable. 

She smirked at him as he turned to look at her, the door finally slamming shut. 

The moment the light overhead went out, signalling the door was shut, she slammed her foot on the gas, resulting in a loud squeal of tires against the pavement before they finally gained traction and were lunged forward. 

Thwei-n’ritja threw a hand onto the dashboard out of reflex at the movement of the jerky ooman vehicle. 

A warning growl rumbled in his chest. 

Mireya laughed loudly, a genuine smile splitting her face. 

“Oh shut up. This is three for three times saving your butt and you know it…” 

Her tone turned more serious as her eyes returned to the road. 

“For real though… you’re lucky I decided to come back and look for you… looks like they were waiting for you… I mean. I’m not surprised. If the military was messing with alien stuff, imagine what a hard-on they must have about getting their hands on someone like you.” 

Mireya’s eyes slid to the alien next to her for a moment before focusing on the road before her again. 

She sped up slightly, making her way towards the empty highway as quickly as she could. Silence filled the vehicle as Thwei-n’ritja watched the ooman drive, trying to parse out her motives. 

Clearing her throat, Mireya spoke up again. “... My Dad… he has, well, I guess had now... I guess it’s mine now? Anyway… there’s this cabin. About 4 hours west of here. We own the property out there. We stay there during winters and go hunting and such. It’s also our bugout location, for emergencies and such… It’s where my dad and I wear going…” 

The light of a passing car caught Mireya’s eyes as she glanced to the alien for a moment. 

“You could hide out there. If you need to. Er… if you want to? So you have somewhere safe while the military chases their tail, until they give up on looking for you... I’ll be there while all this military alien business is going down. I promised Dad I’d get somewhere safe, and that place is the safest place you can get… So… yeah…”

A flush rose across her cheeks. Something about inviting the hulking figure to her cabin to hideout felt far too similar to inviting a man home, but oddly, much more personal. She was extending her home to a creature that, very literally, could kill her. She should be more afraid. 

Thwei-n’ritja eyed the ooman, curiosity and awe thankfully hidden behind his mask. The strange little ooman just kept getting stranger. 

He mulled over his options. 

She was accurate that the oomans were definitely trying to tail him now. While not a problem in and of itself, it would slow him down and cause problems until he finished hunting the Bad Blood and could leave this little hell planet. 

Having somewhere to hide out would be beneficial. 

He momentarily wondered if he could trust the ooman, but quickly banished the thought. He was loathe to admit it, but she was a trustworthy one. She had indeed aided him more than once now, and with no apparent ulterior motives. If she was making an offer, he could assume it was genuine. 

He needed to get to his ship though, first. 

Holding up his gauntlet, he pulled up a configuration of his ship, letting her glance at it before returning her attention to the road. 

Mireya paused as she looked at the hologram presented to her. 

“Is that your ship?”

A gravely voice responded to her, finally. 

“Yes. Must go there first.”

Mireya nodded. 

“Yeah okay. We can do that. Just tell me where to go.” 

Thwei-n’ritja pressed an array of buttons on the gauntlet and suddenly the holographic display showed a map of where she needed to head. 

Mireya laughed loudly at the sight, marveling at the blue figures as they flickered. 

“Holy shit, you’ve got GPS.”

Thwei-n’ritja tilted his head at her, not understanding what the ooman found so amusing. 

Did they not even have such simple technology? They were even further behind than he thought. 

Silence fell over them as Mireya drove, taking the nearest exit and following the directions presented to her.

As they made their way down an abandoned road, they neared the clearing where Thwei-n’ritja had his ship hidden, it’s own cloaking effect keeping it from being spotted from prying eyes. 

“Mireya, by the way.”

Thwei-n’ritja turned his head at the sudden noise, unsure of what the ooman was saying. 

She slowed the car, putting it into park as they reach their destination. 

“My name. It’s Mireya.”

A smile slid onto her lips as she watched the masked alien sitting across from her. 

A moment of silence passed between them before Thwei-n’ritja nodded, repeating the name. It felt foreign on his tongue, and hard to pronounce. It was far too soft. 

Looking intently at her, he pressed a fist to his chest.

“Thwei-n’ritja.”

Mireya repeated it, straining to pronounce it properly, gaining a laugh in response from the creature. 

Her forehead creasing in frustration, she took her time, sounding it out bit by bit until she got it. Finally speaking it in go, but with minor difficulty, she managed the feat.

Once she accomplished the task, her face lit up with joy. Thwei-n’ritja couldn’t help but chuckle at the ooman’s pride.

“How about Ritja for short? So I'm not a complete embarrassment and I’m not butchering your name or disrespecting it. Is that okay?”

Thwei-n’ritja pondered the nickname. He’d never had one. He had too much pride in his name, as was tradition among yautja. And it wasn’t as if a human had ever had to pronounce it before.

The way she huffed the shortened name when she said it though, her accent giving it a completely different, much softer lilt, didn’t bother him for some reason. 

While foreign, it didn’t anger him. It almost reminded him of her own name, in some strange sense.

He gave a slight nod. “Ritja acceptable. Mireya.”

Her excitement palpable, she clapped her hands. 

“Awesome! So…” She looked around, curious eyes searching ardently. 

“Where is this spaceship of yours?” 

Thwei-n’ritja laughed, a low chuckle in his throat, as he pressed a button on his gauntlet. Within moments, the cloaking on his ship faded away, revealing the medium sized pod that was merely feet away from where the ooman had parked. 

Mireya started, mouth agape as she took in the ship, realizing just how close to it they had been, while she’d had no idea. 

A whisper crawled its way from her throat as the alien next to her laughed loudly in amusement. 

“Miércoles cenizas* …”

~

*Chiva - A type of right of passage amongst yautja. A ‘trial’ for unblooded yautja to take to become blooded.   
*Miércoles cenizas - wednesday of ashes (aka ash wednesday)   
Growing up, in a very traditional hispanic/old roman catholic household, I was not allowed to curse, and this was what my very religious abuela used to say instead. It’s a hard habit to break and I do it to this day, despite not even being religious. I’ve always wanted to have a character that used it. So here you go I guess. Lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos, as always, are appreciated~  
Let me know how you're enjoying the story thus far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels a little filler-ish at some points.   
On one hand, I apologize for that, but also, it is necessary.   
I don't want the pace of this to feel overly rushed. 
> 
> In a very short time, Mireya and Thwei-n’ritja are learning to trust each other and it definitely is turning their worlds upside down and starting to make them question their gut reactions~

It hadn’t taken long for the yautja to bustle the tiny ooman into his ship. 

Getting her to understand that he wanted her to give him their intended location was a much more difficult task. 

Once Mireya understood, she pointed it out on the map that he had pulled up. 

While the ooman busied herself grabbing the various boxes and bags from her vehicle, Thwei-n’ritja input the coordinates. 

His ship had taken substantial damage upon entry into this galaxy, thanks to a storm system he’d been unable to avoid. A growl threatened to spill out when he thought of how long repairs would take him. He wouldn’t be able to make any jumps any time in the near future. 

As long as he stayed within the small planet’s atmosphere though, it shouldn’t stress the integrity of the ship… he hoped. 

No matter what, he needed to make sure it was in a more secure location. Better hidden. 

Both so the Bad Blood couldn’t access it, and so it was further from prying ooman eyes. Having it nearby the ooman woman’s domicile would make it convenient to work on repairs while he continued his hunt. 

He nodded to himself, letting the pieces of his plan fall into place. 

The sound of Mireya huffing, dropping the last box to the floor nearby, startled him from his thoughts. Over her shoulder was the bag of yautja tech he had tossed into the back of the vehicle in his haste. 

Holding it out to him, she gathered her breath, struggling slightly after the exertion of moving the heavy bags. Pregnancy energy, or lack thereof, was brutal. 

“Here. You almost forgot this. Can’t go leaving a trail, right?” 

Thwei-n’ritja couldn’t help the slight purr of approval, the ooman’s intelligence showing in her actions. A voice in the back of his mind berated himself for forgetting in the first place, distracted by his own aches and getting the ship ready. 

The yautja took the bag from her, leaving the room for only a moment to stash it away before returning to the cockpit. Pointing to one of the overly large seats, he nodded his chin to the ooman female. 

“Sit. Leaving.”

A flutter rose in Mireya’s chest. “Uh, yeah! Okay.” 

She clambered into the overly large seat as the Predator sat in the larger chair nearby. Her feet dangled below her, swinging low as her toes barely skimmed the floor of the ship. Her hands gripped into the sides of the seat below her as her heart raced. 

This thing wasn’t just taking her into space, right? No, it had, literally, had her show the exact location of the cabin to it moments ago… 

Wait, was this even safe? Sure, it was for him, but she was much smaller and squishier than he was. 

Her eyes flicked down to the swell of her stomach as a hand slid to the bulge of her sweater. She nervously looked to the creature, listening to the hum of the machine come to life around them. 

“Hey, this… this is safe, right?”

Thwei-n’ritja held his tongue, biting back the initial retort that OBVIOUSLY it was. Hell, it was safer than that atrocity of a deathtrap they had just been riding in. 

He glanced over to the female in his irritation, noticing the tiny hand clinging to the young within her belly as anxiety desperately tried to hide itself from her brow. Understanding dawned on him and his annoyance fell away. 

He let a low rumble permeate the air, instinctually attempting the soothe the female. “Yes.”

A breath escaped her, her shoulders sagging slightly in relief at the sureness of his answer. 

Once airborne, the usually long trip that took Mireya and her father hours took the star-crossed companions a matter of mere minutes. Mireya had barely had the time to be fascinated at how smooth their ascent and following descent had been. The earth below rushed past them faster than she could process, making her nauseated until she gave up trying to take it in. She instead turned her attention to the figure across from her, who had no trouble processing the confusing displays on the ship’s dash and the scenery outside. 

Nearing the property, and making their descent, Mireya stood, pointing to the mountains below and the lush greenery for miles around. 

“It’s down there. We own a couple acres, here in the mountains, including that valley and lake. People seldom come out here since it’s privately owned. The valley would probably give you the best place to set down… and we’ll be an hour trek from the cabin.”

Thwei-n’ritja nodded, following the advice. 

The area was quiet. Calm. 

Patches like this on the blue planet weren’t so bad, he found. He could understand the appeal, despite the lack of prey and the slightly uncomfortable chill. 

He heard the woman rustle behind him, struggling with something. Turning around, he saw her cursing to herself, one pack on her back as she tried to lift a box. “Ugh, fucking heavy ass shit… should have listened to Dad… never pack more than you need… should have just brought the bugout bag… never thought I’d be leaving the SUV and having to hike an hour though…”

Thwei-n’ritja watched her struggle in amusement for a few moments longer before deciding to step in. They’d get nowhere at this rate, no matter how entertaining it was to watch the weak little ooman struggle. 

Picking up the remaining gear with one hand, he situated it under his arm, pinning it to his side as he stared at her expectantly. 

Mireya blinked up at him, exasperation heavy on her features. 

“Freakin’ aliens…”

She threw her arms in the air and turned around, leaving the ship and beginning the hike toward the cabin, tightening the straps of her bag around her shoulders as she made her way. 

Thwei-n’ritja was thankful for his mask as an amused chitter caused his mandibles to twitch, his eyes shining as he watched the ooman storm off. 

They reached the cabin just as dawn started to break over the horizon, a rainbow of colors painting the sky with a breathtaking backdrop as they neared the wooden home. 

Her legs shaking like jelly, Mireya’s eyes shone with relief, stumbling up the steps to unlock the door and tumble in. 

Thwei-n’ritja dipped his head down, having to duck to enter the front door, as he looked around the domicile. 

It was decently sized. Not large by any means, but it had an open layout and a high, pitched ceiling. He was thankful for that aspect as he walked in, dropping the gear he was holding onto the floor. 

Mireya plopped heavily into the old plaid couch that graced the living room, catching her breath and watching as the alien looked around the meager home. 

Thwei-n’ritja paused as he looked at the fireplace, his gaze immediately drawn to the displays mounted on the wall above it. 

Mireya smiled, standing up wearily to make her way next to him. 

She stared up at the various mounted trophies on display.

“Yeah, you might like to hear about that… this cabin is actually my dad’s hunting cabin… It was never really something I was super into, but my dad was. He would take me every season and we’d live here for part of the year. It was how we’d bond. I may not have been into it, but I loved spending time with him. I got pretty good at it… we started hunting bigger game. Eventually Dad got into Trophy game. We did it all. Moose, mountain lions, black bears, you name it. So… dad had to show off. He was… way too proud for his own good…” 

Thwei-n’ritja could hear the softness of her voice as it trembled. 

Out of respect he kept his gaze on the trophies. He had seen a few of the creatures on his hunts before, never paying them any mind. He wondered how strong of game they were. From the way she spoke he knew the respect she had earned hunting them though, and he instinctively knew they well earned it. He wondered which were hers and which were her father’s. 

A sniffle escaped her. 

“Anyway! Dad was so weird about it too, ya know? Like! He had all these fancy guns. Ones that I could not even TELL you about! But you know what he raises me on? Archery! That jerk! Teaches me to fire a gun. Takes me to the gun range and everything. But then decides, “No, we need to earn that kill to have it on our wall. Guns are protection, and for when absolutely necessary. This is about earning pride!’” 

Tears finally streaked the woman’s cheeks. “Do you have any idea how much harder that was? I couldn’t even pull the bowstring at first! Had to start on a kiddie one and work up and get stronger. Once I could handle a 50lb draw, though… we went out, and that was that… the old man was so stupidly proud… said if I could take down anything with just a piece of wood and string, he’d never have to worry about me…” 

Thwei-n’ritja listened as the choked words kept coming, burning every word to memory as the ooman told her tale. She was an ooman who deserved that respect, and from her words, so was her father. 

He would dutifully give it to them. There were many yautja even that could only aspire to live like they had.

Mireya slid to her knees, her emotions finally wracking her body as her loss overwhelmed her. Hot tears stained her cheeks as her chest heaved. While she had cried initially, in her shock, her grief was finally setting in. The realization that her one pillar in life was well and truly gone. 

Thwei-n’ritja finally dared to glance at Mireya as she curled on the floor, her entire body shaking with each heaving sob. 

Honor told him to leave her. Let her grieve. 

But something inside of him felt a pull. He couldn’t help but pity the female. A part of him twinging at her sorrow and pain, feeling it twist his stomach unpleasantly. 

Before he could stop himself, he knelt down, placing a hand on the ooman’s back, rubbing soothing circles into it. 

The touch surprised them both, both of them jolting away for a moment, before Mireya leaned forward, pressing into his lap and sobbing quietly. 

Thwei-n’ritja resumed the motions, as they seemed to comfort the woman, albeit slowly. He let a low purr resonate in his chest, barely audible, in an attempt to calm her fraying nerves. 

Why he was doing so at all was beyond his understanding. He was far too hard for this. Perhaps it was just the convenience. Listening to the ooman wail would be a nuisance. His instincts were merely kicking in. That was all it had to be.

No matter the motivation, he continued until she had fallen asleep in his lap, utterly exhausted from the stress of the past 24 hours, and her overwhelming grief. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched her on his thigh, staying still as stone while she rested. He had wounds to tend to, and work that needed done. But at least for a few moments, he could watch over her to ensure she got a few moments of peaceful reprieve. 

Mireya awoke to the feeling of shuffling below her. A tiny moan and grumbled escaped her as she blinked, looking around in confusion for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. 

A chittering noise above her made her look up, catching site of the masked alien that she had been accompanying for the past few hours. She barely kept herself from jumping, recognition finally crossing her mind. 

Blinking the sleep away from her eyes, she tried to recall where they were. Sitting up, she realized that she was sprawled across the Predator’s lap. 

A flush crept up her neck at the realization, embarrassment making her want to hide away forever. “S-sorry…” She wasn’t even sure how long she had been asleep. 

Rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, she began to stand, brushing herself off. 

Holding her hand out to the alien, she nodded towards his back, speaking slowly. “Since you’re stuck here with me anyway, how about you let me look at that injury again? I’ll make sure it’s not getting infected, then I’ll get us settled in.”

Thwei-n’ritja paused, mulling the thought over. His injuries needed attended to, he was sure of it. He had new ones and had probably re-opened his old ones in his most recent fight. He had full intention of handling them once he had gotten time away from the ooman woman though. 

Gently taking her hand, he stood to his full height, giving her a nod. 

Mireya smiled at his agreement, gripping his hand and dragging him across the cabin towards a set of stairs, leading to a loft-style second floor. 

Thwei-n’ritja glanced at her gripping his hand, clicking his mandibles in curiosity at the human action. It felt tender and soft, and very foreign. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he couldn’t being himself to yank away when he had seen how the ooman’s eyes lit up when he accepted her outreached grasp. 

Following her closely, the woman finally dropped his hand, and Thwei-n’ritja found his hand strangely empty feeling, opening and closing his grasp as he stared at his palm. He squinted at it, mostly in irritation at himself. His attention was pulled from his pondering as he heard Mireya muttering away under her breath. 

Some parts in a language he was unfamiliar with, but occasionally she would swap back to the ooman English language and he could understand bits and pieces.

Mireya glanced back at the alien who still stood, staring at his hand. She silently wondered if it was injured and she had hurt it when she had grabbed him. 

She spoke over her shoulder, digging through a box. “I’m just looking for our full med kit. We have a small first aid kit out, but we always keep a large kit tucked away. I want to find that one; I think that would be better to have ready when I check you out, Ritja.”

He gave her a nod, watching as her frustration grew until she kicked the box she had been sorting through. He laughed, a chittering sound rising from behind his mask as she held her foot and muttered. 

Mireya glared up at the alien, holding up her middle finger, despite knowing the gesture was probably useless against him. 

Letting out a sigh, she crossed her arms. 

“Two more places to check. The spare room or the basement. Which, yeah the basement is storage, so that’s probably the SMART place to check… but Dad always packs things weird. Just trust me on this. It’s never where it logically should be. He’s great at being prepared. And clean. And organized even. Just… don’t expect to understand the way his brain works… well… worked.” 

A flicker of sadness crossed her eyes before she shook it away. 

Papping her hands on her cheeks, she began to lead the way towards a short hall, pausing at a closed door and jiggling the handle. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched a look of confusion and concern cross the woman’s face as she stared at the door. 

His voice came out as a low growl, the vaguest hint of concern in it. “What wrong?”

Mireya turned to look at him, her eyebrows pinched so tightly they nearly met. 

“It’s locked… we never lock doors here.”

Reaching her arm up, she began to feel around for the key to the room. Instead of finding it perched on the doorframe where it should be though, she found a small note taped to the wall. 

Peeling it away, her confusion only growing, she pulled it down, slowly unfolding it. 

In her father’s scribbled handwriting is merely said, ‘No peeking!’ 

Thwei-n’ritja looked to her and they shared a confused glance. 

The small woman started to stutter, gripping the note in her hand tightly. “I… the key’s gone...I think… I think my dad took it… I think he hid something, but I’ve got to check so…” 

Overwhelmed, confused tears started to well up in her eyes, her chest heaving as she worked to stay calm. 

Noticing her distress, Thwei-n’ritja stepped forward, gripping the knob in his hand. With a quick flick of his wrist, he broke the knob, snapping it clean off and dropping the crush hunk of metal to the floor. 

The door before them slowly began to slip open, creaking loudly. 

Mireya stared up at Thwei-n’ritja, her eyes and mouth wide. 

Placing a single hand on the now open door, Thwei-n’ritja gently pushed it open, leaving the way clear for the ooman woman to search for what she needed. 

Mireya muttered out a quiet thank you, stepping over the crushed doorknob to enter the old spare room. 

Her breath caught in her throat, her hands gripping into tight fists when she looked around, realizing why it had been closed off. 

Tears freely trailed down her cheeks as she stepped over to the rocker that sat under the small window. Around it sat an array of already put together baby items. A rocking bassinet, a baby sling, stacks of clothes, cloth diapers, a breast pump, bottles, even formula. Everything she would even possibly need for at least the first year. All of it in gender neutral colors.

Her thoughts rushed through memories of stressing about needing to buy things. How often she had worried that her savings wouldn’t be enough after she’d had to quit her job because of pregnancy complications. And then, to how her father had always laughed her worries away. How often he told her to just worry about keeping herself and his grandchild safe, and everything would be okay.

Mireya ran her fingers over the wood of the chair, her other hand covering her mouth as she choked down a sob. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched the woman cautiously. He wasn’t sure what the meaning of all of these things were, but they seemed to have the small ooman significantly upset. Removing his mask, he peered around, taking in each item carefully, listening to each change in her pulse intently. 

Mireya turned around, noticing Thwei-n’ritja inspecting the room, his bare mandibles clicking together. 

Wiping away her tears, Mireya cleared her throat, catching the alien’s attention. 

Stepping towards the closet doors, she threw them open. Right on the floor, below more stacks of baby items, and a small pile of maternity clothes, all in her favorite colors, was the box of medic supplies. 

Sighing, Mireya moved the clothes and items from atop it, pulling the box out to the center of the room. 

She glanced up to Thwei-n’ritja, forcing a smile. “See? I told you it would be here.” 

Opening it up, she pulled out the supplies she suspected she might need and a few extras. 

“Okay, Ritja. Let’s get you fixed up. You’re not bleeding right now, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Thwei-n’ritja followed the woman back downstairs, thankful that he wasn’t being cramped into another tiny bathroom. Hunkering down, he let her tend to his wounds more readily than the first time, letting her inspect the previous wound, and check him over for new ones. 

He chuckled as she did her best to manhandle him, twisting and turning him to her whim, to which he’d allow, finding humor in her focus on her task, as she checked him from head to toe. 

She tutted and fussed at him, lecturing him when she came across his newer wounds, as well as when she saw that he had reopened his wound on his back. 

He merely growled lowly at her, fussing at her in return in his native tongue, telling her that such small injuries were nothing. 

After he spoke, Mireya paused, dipping the cloth she was using to clean his wounds into the bowl of clean water as she stared up into his face. 

He tilted his head at her inquisitive look, unsure what was the matter. 

She squinted at him, pouting before pointing a finger at him. “I don’t know what the hell you said, but I have the distinct feeling you are back sassing me. I know you can speak English now, and you are distinctly choosing NOT to use it.”

She kept the stare for a moment longer before returning her attention to the wound in front of her, gently cleaning away dried blood. 

Thwei-n’ritja laughed loudly, his chest heaving and startling the woman momentarily as his mandibles spread, twitching quickly the barking sound devolved into chattering. 

When he caught his breath, he looked to the ooman and nodded, his grating voice speaking up in english again. 

“Yes… that’s correct…”

Mireya’s eyes flicked up to his again quickly, staring for a moment before squinting. 

“I fucking knew it.”

Thwei-n’ritja’s mandibles clicked together rapidly in amusement. 

Pulling out a roll of bandages, Mireya set about wrapping the newly cleaned wound. She was glad she had thought to raid the supplies first. With how massive Ritja’s body was, she would need half a roll just to wrap the wound on his thigh, let along re-wrapping his chest properly. 

Without looking up, she cleared her throat, speaking up again quietly. 

“So… is it me? Or do you just not like to? Speak English, I mean. Or is it because of…?” 

Glancing up, Mireya pointed towards her mouth, indicating his mandibles. 

A low purr resonated in Thwei-n’ritja’s throat at the question. He considered simply ignoring her but felt compelled to answer. Giving his head a soft shake, he felt the long tendrils along his back graze his wound.

“Not you…” 

He tapped his mandibles before reaching forward, slipping the pad of his thumb across Mireya’s lip gently, avoiding hooking his claw on her soft skin. 

“Do not have… these. Takes practice. Hard. Do not like using… unless have to…”

The longer he spoke, his voice growled and croaked slightly. 

Mireya nodded in understanding, slipping her hand up to touch her lip. “Ah! Okay… I’m sorry then. But you can understand me?”

Thwei-n’ritja nodded, watching as she finished tying off the bandages she was working on.   
Unsurprisingly, she had done an exceptional job with them. 

“Yes. Listening easy. Speaking difficult.... Easier with time…”

Mireya gave him a smile, standing up. 

“We’re the same then! That’s how it was for me when I was a kid… I grew up in a bilingual household, so I learned Spanish before English. Now, sure, they’re both second nature for me. But I wasn’t good at speaking them both till I got older.” 

Thwei-n’ritja thought back on the language he had heard her speaking earlier. It had been a familiar human language, but one he didn’t know. That must be what she was referring to. 

He nodded and stood as well, towering over her again now that he was no longer splayed out for her to inspect. 

Resting a knuckle on his chin, he snapped his neck to the side, letting out a purr when it made a satisfying pop after sitting in one position for so long. 

Across the room, he noted the woman putting his old bandages in a bag next to the back door, not questioning it, but making a mental note of the action. 

Making her way to the sink, Mireya scrubbed her hands until they were sufficiently clean, drying them on her sweater as she paced towards the immense alien. 

“So, safe to assume, since you’re a hunter and you have those teeth, meat is okay? Like… is that safe for you to eat or do you need a special diet?”

Thwei-n’ritja started to nod and stopped. “No, am…” He mulled over his words, thinking over the human word for what he was looking for. “Adaptable.” 

He nodded again, satisfied with himself. 

Mireya smiled at his response, turning around. 

“All right, perfect. Because I brought some stuff, but I haven’t checked our food stock yet. The one thing I know we have for sure is that the meat locker is always well stocked. So let’s go thaw something out and fill your belly. Gotta keep your energy up for all of that to heal.” 

Her hand slid to her stomach, bracing herself and grunting as she opened the latch on the kitchen floor, leading to the lower level of the cabin and the cellar. 

“Besides,” she continued. “This little one is driving me nuts because I haven’t eaten since yesterday and they are NOT happy about it. I feel like I could eat everything in the freezer myself!” 

She barked out a laugh, making her way down the steps, pausing suddenly as a thought crossed her mind. 

Thwei-n’ritja barely stopped in time, his reflexes the only thing keeping him from tripping on the ooman as she twirled around to stare suspiciously at him. She eyed him up and down, seeming to inspect him.

His brow rose in confusion at her accusatory look. 

Turning around as suddenly as she had stopped, he heard her mutter under her breath as she continued down the steps. 

“Madre, he is HUGE. How much does he even have to eat?”

Thwei-n’ritja laughed, his mandibles clicking as he held his aching rib, trying to stifle his noises as he followed her down into the lower level of the domicile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated, as always!   
And I appreciate all of my readers, both new and old~   
Let me know if you are enjoying things, and always feel free to leave feedback, excited squeals, or theories and hopes!


	6. Chapter 6

Unfortunately, the deep freezer had not been as fully stocked as Mireya had been hoping.

More accurately, had she been the only one eating, she probably could have made her supply stretch for a month easily, but her alien companion had as high of a metabolism as she had suspected. 

For every portion she ate, he would eat four times as much. Sometimes more.

At one point she sat in awe of his immense appetite, watching him tear a plate of deer steak into bite-sized pieces before devouring it readily. Even after it was long gone, he still polished off an entire bulk bag of preserved fruits and nuts he had found somewhere in the depths of the pantry. Satisfied chirps resounded from his chest, like a cat that had caught a canary, as he indulged in the sweet, preserved mix.

Mireya wondered if he was stockpiling calories because he was healing from his injuries. Despite these initial thoughts, something in the back of her mind told her that wasn’t true at all though. That this was just how the creature fed. She considered asking but decided against it. 

Which was what brought her to her current situation. 

Mireya slid her hands across the rack of various bows, considering her choices carefully. She paused on her compound bow, the smarter choice, but passed it over, instead grabbing her classic hunting longbow, waiting to be strung.

She needed to go out and restock the meat locker, if she would keep them fed, afterall.

Thwei-n’ritja sat at the kitchen table, thumbing through one of the many books that adorned the shelved wall nearby. He’d picked up the habit of looking through Mireya’s books. She had a variety of them, both in English and Spanish, and he was using his spare time to brush up on his ooman knowledge with them. 

He glanced up as the small woman entered, visibly perking and eyeing the unstrung bow in her hands. While not a common weapon among yautja, it was standard to learn such a primitive weapon and become versed in it. 

Mireya sat at the table across from him, making herself comfortable as she started to strap herself into her safety gear. 

She bundled up in warm clothes, wrapping her nondominant arm in its arm guard, both to protect it from the possibility of a bow slap, and to keep her clothing from interfering with her line of sight.

As she busied herself, Thwei-n’ritja watched intently, his stare slipping over the pages of the book in his grasp. She was calm. Collected. He could tell she was no amateur. As if her trophies hadn’t been giveaway enough. Any chance that they were solely her father’s was long gone.

It had his curiosity piqued so greatly he couldn’t stand it. 

Finally, the woman spoke up, not breaking her attention from her preparations as she addressed him. 

“We’re not out of food yet; we have plenty of dry goods, thankfully. We don’t seem to go through those as fast. But we’re going through meat fast, so I need to restock the freezer. I don’t want to rely on dry meat storage unless we have to. I should be back by the end of the day. Do you think you’ll be okay here by yourself while I go out?” 

Thwei-n’ritja sat up straighter, his body rigid. His voice growled out, less crackly than it once had been.

He still did not speak often, but the more practiced use of the English language was making it easier for him to use without strain lately.

“You’re going hunting?”

Mireya paused her actions, glancing up at him with a quirked brow. 

She nodded quickly and picked up her boots, beginning to strap her feet into them. 

“Yup.”

“I will go.”

Mireya shook her head without looking at him. 

“It’s okay, Ritja. You stay here. I know this area like the back of my hand. I know what to hunt this time of year. I know where the property lines are and where animals gather. Besides, I want you to finish healing.” 

The alien stood, knocking the chair he had been seated in back with his sudden movement. His arms spread wide as his mandibles flared; a roar escaped his throat and he glared at the tiny creature across from him.

He started to chitter and curse at her in his native tongue before remembering himself, forcing himself to use her language with a shake of his head. 

“I am kv’var-de*! I kill things more dangerous than your worst nightmares, lou-dte kale! These pitiful wounds will barely scar... How dare a filthy ooman think themselves a better hunter.” 

Mireya jumped back at the sudden outburst, one hand instinctively guarding her stomach as her other hand grasped the back of her chair. 

She quickly gained her composure as she stared up at the alien across from her, boring into her with irritation and anger. Everything about his stance seemed to make his imposing figure bigger. This had been the most she had ever heard him say at once, let alone that clear.

As momentarily terrifying as it was, she filed the moment away to reflect on. 

“I’m not saying you aren’t a good hunter, Ritja… I’ll bring you along next time. I just want you to rest. It’s barely been over a week. Besides, it won’t be anything exciting. Hell, you’d probably be bored.”

Thwei-n’ritja rustled at her words, but visibly calmed. His thoughts raced, and he grumbled in his native language, bending down to upright his chair, standing behind it, gripping the back in his claws for a moment.

He let out a quiet growl. 

“Fine. I will stay.”

Mireya smiled at him softly. 

“Thank you… I promise, I’ll be back before sundown. Then we can have as big and fresh of a meal as you want, okay?”

Having a pregnant ooman hunting for him sent every single one of Thwei-n’ritja’s nerves and instincts into high alert. He could practically feel alarms going off, screaming at him.

He silently talked himself down though, giving her a complacent nod. 

He was no sucker* to be taken care of. He would let her go on her hunt alone, as she wished, but he would at least use the opportunity to see her in action in her own territory.

Thwei-n’ritja followed the woman around silently, watching her finish her preparations until she was leaving out the back exit of the cabin.

Standing on the wooden patio, the alien watched her begin her trek towards the treeline. 

She paused before stepping inside, turning to give him a final glance, smiling and waving at him before entering the thick trees, bobbing and weaving with a practiced ease. 

Thwei-n’ritja stood there, unmoving, for several moments longer. Waiting. 

Once he was sure that it had been long enough that the tiny ooman wouldn’t be suspicious, he went back inside, gathering his biomask and combistick. Just in case, he told himself, as he grabbed the later. 

Activating the cloaking technology in his gear, he scaled one of the trees on the edge of the forest’s clearing, starting to track his tiny ooman.

Mireya followed the memorized path through the wooded area, making her way closer to the watering hole where she knew she would have the best luck. This early in the season, there would be plenty of antelope in that area, especially since she and her father hadn’t come for their first hunt of the year. The antelope weren’t wary yet.

The small wooden blind, nothing more than a treehouse blended well into the wilderness, covered in dead branches and dead leaves, came into view. 

She let out a relieved sigh at the sight of it, making her way towards the ladder and clambering up. Opening the hatch from below, she tossed her gear in before scrambling in after it, catching her breath and holding her stomach as she sat in one of the two small chairs that still sat inside of the space.

Mireya looked down to her growing bulge, letting out a huff of a laugh. 

“This didn’t use to be as hard, you know? Maneuvering around you is proving difficult. Give me a break, hm?”

The flutter under her fingers in response to her request made her bark with laughter. 

Her breath regained, she stood up, dusting herself off. Grabbing up her unstrung bow, she made quick work of pulling out her bow stringer, standing on the strap and pulling the arm upwards with practiced, fluid motions.

Her muscles strained slightly, having not done this in a few months, thankful for the sheer muscle memory of the actions. 

Once her string was in place, she slowly released the arm back down, removing the bow stringer and packing it away. 

Pulling out a bottle of water, she settled into the chair she had just risen from, staring into the surrounding forest from the narrow window that wrapped the entire hut. 

“And now… we wait…” 

Nearby, from a sturdy branch, Thwei-n’ritja watched the woman prepare her weapon with a practiced hand inside her hideout. He’d been able to catch up to her easily. Her tracks were well hidden for an ooman, but easy enough for a yautja like himself to track. 

He crouched low, silently watching her as she made herself comfortable. She was waiting for her prey to come to her. 

He recalled the trophies on her wall and excitement bubbled within him. Part of him was eager to see a human in a game so similar to his own, even if it was far more primal.

It would be worth waiting to see her act, he decided as he reclined against the trunk of the tree. 

Mireya let out a tiny, hushed groan, rolling an ache from her lower back and shoulders. 

Pregnancy was not befitting sitting still in the middle of the woods, waiting for something to come along.

It had been a few hours. She wasn’t sure exactly how many. At least three or four, from how far the sun had risen. It must finally be mid-morning, by now. 

It was strange that she had seen nothing here by now. 

She worried at her lip, silently wondering if the antelope had changed up their pattern finally this year, choosing another area or watering hole to congregate near in the early mornings. She had chosen this spot in hopes of saving time and saving energy. She didn’t want to have to track something through the woods while pregnant.

Just as her anxiety had bubbled up, she heard a twig snap. 

Looking up, she watched as a single antelope came into view in the distance. 

She glanced quickly in the opposite direction towards the watering hole. It was still far enough away that she could take it down without compromising the area. Too close to the watering hole and she risked the smell of the kill warding off future hunts for a time. 

Thanking her lucky stars, she plucked up her bow, her breathing instinctually shallowing. 

Pulling an arrow from her pack, she began to nock it, drawing the string and arrow back as her gaze focused on the creature in the distance. 

Her pulse raced. She took no joy in her kills, but she couldn’t deny an excitement that thrummed through her each time she drew her bow. The anticipation of whether she would make her mark. 

She focused on every tiny sensation, her surroundings melting away. One finger over her arrow, two below. One deep, steady breath in before she held it for a brief second, her fingers briefly gracing her jawline. 

The sound of the arrow scraping against the bow was softer than a whisper, but suddenly it was like a scream in her ears, the only sound in the entire woods beyond the crunching of dead leaves below the doe’s hooves. 

In the nearby treetops, Thwei-n’ritja watched eagerly, his own pulse racing. The moment the ooman’s adrenaline had spiked, he could smell it rolling off of her in waves. He crouched low, swapping the view of his visor so he could watch every pulse of her heart as she steadied herself. His mask picked up every shallow breath, silence suddenly suffocating him as she held her breath, causing him to hold his own out of sheer anticipation. 

Mireya watched the doe as it finally turned, angling exactly as she hoped it would.

The moments that had felt like they had drawn on forever, holding her stance, had thankfully only been mere seconds.

Her gaze focused on a single spot, n a single solitary hair of the creature, as she let out her breath in a steady stream, loosing her arrow a moment after her breathing resumed. 

As fast as lightning, without a sound, her arrow struck her mark, her aim as true as it ever was. 

Thwei-n’ritja felt his breathing return, his pulse still racing as he looked to her target, watching as it bolted, stumbling with the arrow sticking from its body. 

A faint smile slid across Mireya’s lips. Putting her bow down, she sat back down, patting herself on her cheeks.

“There you go, Mireya. Good shot.”

As her father had taught her, she waited what she estimated to be half an hour before pursuing the creature. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched as she inspected the blood trail, leaning down and taking it in. The more he watched, the more impressed he grew. It made him both thankful and resentful of the fact that she was a child-bearer. She would be an excellent opponent, for an ooman.

Mireya knelt to the ground, groaning slightly and having to adjust as her belly made her unstable.

Once she situated herself, she looked to the blood trail. She grinned wide, thankful to see it was pink and bubbly. She had landed a lung or heart shot.

That meant a short hunt for her, and a quick and merciful death for the creature. Both things she had been hoping for. She had been lucky today. 

She rose to her feet with a huff, following the trail in the dead leaves and underbrush carefully. 

As she’d suspected, it didn’t take her long to find the body of the already dead doe. 

Realization struck her when she began to move the antelope. Her father had usually helped her transport her kills, because of her small size. 

Firming her resolve, she set about moving it. Not that it would be impossible, just… it would suck, especially in her current condition. 

After nearly an hour of struggling, Mireya had made it only a third of the way back to the cabin. She should have long since been back, and if she hadn’t been pregnant, she would have been.

Taking a break, she sat down, leaning against a tree trunk. She clutched her abdomen as a painful cramp ripped through her, causing a spike of anxiety to invade her thoughts. Regret ebbed through her mind in that moment as she recalled her many warnings from her doctors on not doing any strenuous activity. 

And what does she do? 

She shook her head, reprimanding herself. No, this was necessary. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched the ooman cringe to herself, muttering pained curses as she sat in the underbrush. A chittering growl resonated in his chest as he watched her, something deep in him stirry that he couldn’t name. She had been making agonizingly slow progress back to her hut, but he made a point of watching over her and not interfering. 

He watched her stand up, only to bend back over, her eyebrows knitting together in obvious pain as she clutched the young in her stomach. 

He swallowed a growl down and dropped from his hiding spot, turning off his stealth gear and landing a few feet from the woman, revealing himself. 

Mireya stared up at Thwei-n’ritja as he appeared before her, seeming to shift into existence out of nowhere, appearing from the shadows like some otherworldly guardian angel. 

“Wh- Did you follow me, Ritja?” She blinked owlishly at him. 

Thwei-n’ritja stared down at her, his mask hiding his expression. 

After a moment of silence hung pregnant between them, he wordlessly picked up her kill, shouldering it as if it weighed nothing. 

Turning in the cabin's direction, he began to walk, his strides intentionally slow. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder and nodded back at her, showing for her to follow him. 

Mireya stared in confused awe as the alien began to carry off the doe, leading them back to the cabin. 

Snapping out of her daze, she grabbed her bow and gear bag, following him as she clutched her bump.

With the alien’s help, the long trek back passed quickly. So much so that it was barely past noon, the sun high above them and helping ward off the chill stinging Mireya’s cheeks as the cabin came into view. 

Mireya stepped around the alien, waving for him to follow her as she led him to a small offshoot from the cabin’s lower level. There she pointed to an area that Thwei-n’ritja could quickly identify. 

It was a designated area to prep and take care of kills. 

He slung the beast to the ground easily, rolling his shoulder out of habit, and looked to the woman. 

Mireya looked up at him for a moment, speaking up with a tired huff.

“I’ll start gutting it and preparing it soon. I need to get it taken care of…”

Thwei-n’ritja noted the tired way the woman held herself, recalling her need to stop in the woods when pain overtook her. 

Pulling one of his blades from his belt, he knelt down and slammed it into the carcass to emphasize his words as he looked at her. 

“You rest. I can prepare this.”

Mireya’s eyes widened, her mouth forming a slight ‘O’ shape.

She seemed to consider for a moment before giving in with a nod, smiling. 

“This is my least favorite part, to be honest… so I’d appreciate it. Anything you don’t have that you could need is down here. I… I need a bath.” 

When he gave her a nod, she turned around with a sigh, making her way up the slight hill towards the back patio, leaving him to his task. 

Making her way inside, her exhaustion hit her like a wave. Dropping her gear on the kitchen table, she began to peel away her warm layers as she weaved through the cabin, heading towards the downstairs bathroom. Articles of clothing littered the floor as she trudged away, not caring about the mess left in her wake, in that moment. 

She favored the lower bathroom because it was the one with the large tub with jets, and boy was she looking forward to those right now. Unlike the spartan shower stall in the upstairs bathroom. 

By the time she made it to the bathroom, she was peeling away her underthings with relief. Turning the warm water on full blast, she let the tub fill, sitting on the edge and letting her thoughts wander while she waited. 

She wondered how long Ritja had been following her earlier. Had he been there all along? Or had he gotten impatient and come looking for her? She had said she would be back by sundown, and it was only halfway through the day when he had shown up. 

She wanted to ask him, but she had the distinct feeling that even if she asked him, he wouldn’t answer her. 

The feeling of water touching her fingers broke her from her thoughts, and she stepped into the now full tub, easing into it with a content groan. 

Lounging back in the soothing water, she let her thoughts float away, the warmth and motion in the water helping rock away her aches. 

Thwei-n’ritja made quick work of Mireya’s kill. It was a simple animal to butcher. He didn’t know if she would want the pelt or not, so he prepared it anyway, using a serum from his pack to speed the process and soften and clean it. He did the same and treated the skull as he would one of his own kills.

By the time he was done, everything from meat and bones, to pelt, were taken care of and prepared with a precision he was proud of. Back on his ship he could do a much better job, but he had reached his rank as an Elite and an Enforcer for a reason. He took pride in his skills with impromptu tools. 

Putting most of the meat in the cold storage Mireya had shown him, he brought a portion inside for later in the evening. 

Placing the wrapped pieces in the inside cool storage, he noticed the mess of the ooman’s coverings littering the cabin, leaving a trail through the dwelling. 

Removing his biomask, he placed it on the table, stretching his mandibles and enjoying the moment of relief before warily following the trail into the open room. 

Past the open room, he spied the door to the ooman’s bathroom, open just a crack. 

Flattening his palm against the door, he opened it slightly, peering inside, to ensure it was empty. 

To his surprise, the ooman woman was still inside. 

He started to turn away when he paused, noticing the slight dip of her head.

Worry rose like bile in his throat and he stepped into the bathroom, hurrying to kneel at the side of the tub and check on the woman. 

As she came into view, he realized that she was merely asleep, comfortable in the still warm water.

Thwei-n’ritja let out a growl, half in frustration, half in relief, as his body sunk down, slipping to sit on the bathroom floor. 

He froze as realization sunk in that he had been worried in that split second when he saw her body sagging and unresponsive. 

Looking to the woman, he inspected her sleeping face, gauging his own reaction as he tried to test what value she had to him. Why had he been gaining concern for her wellbeing? He had no need for her now. He had access to her territory and cabin. Sure, he would not kill her or hunt her. He would gladly follow the Code. But to worry over her beyond that is an extent he couldn’t help but ponder over. 

It was unlike any yautja to behave in such a way. 

But it was especially unlike him.

Thwei-n’ritja watched a shiver run through Mireya’s body. The water was running cool. 

Grumbling, his mandibles clicked together in contemplation. 

Flipping the drain on the tub, he reached down and lifted the small ooman with ease, wrapping her naked form loosely in the robe she had hanging up. 

Carrying her up the much too shallow stairs, he placed her on the covers of her bed.

Once she was laid out, Thwei-n’ritja sat in the chair facing the bed, continuing to watch the woman sleep for a moment as his thoughts filled his mind, trying to make sense of his knee jerk reaction.

He watched each rise and fall of her chest, his stare slipping across her half bare form, over her growing stomach and swelling chest, until he focused on her face. 

Her eyes fluttered beneath their lids, searching for something even in her sleep, her eyelashes fluttering slightly. 

He reached forward, finding one of his claws curiously touching her hair, tucking a runaway strand behind her ear before he could stop himself. 

Mireya stirred slightly, the sensation pulling her from the depths of her slumber. 

Groggily, she sat up, looking around the room, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“How did I? Jesus, did I fall asleep?” 

She blinked around at the empty room, hugging her robe tighter to herself before getting up and pacing towards her dresser. Pulling out some warm, clean clothes, she began to redress, pausing as she tried to recall when she had gotten out of the bath to come lay down. 

Shaking the thought away, she gave up on it, pulling her sweater dress down and tugging it over her bump. 

As Mireya made her way down the stairs, Thwei-n’ritja let his cloaking technology fade away, still standing perfectly still in the ooman’s now empty room. 

When she had awakened, he had turned it on in a panic, unsure how she would react to him being so close while she slept. 

Running his fingers through the base of the dreads lining the crown of his head, he let out a chittering grumble. Maybe staying with this strange ooman had been a mistake.

~

*Kv’var-de - A Hunter  
*Suckers - Yautja young/children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did everyone enjoy this enchanting update?   
Let me know!
> 
> Thwei-n’ritja is becoming more intrigued by Mireya and he is finding this more and more unsettling. How do you think he will handle the ebb and flow of these new urges?
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW okay so a LOT happens in this chapter~  
It almost felt like I should split it into two, but they would have been two very short chapters, so instead you guys just get a very busy chapter, sorry! 
> 
> I hope you still enjoy it!   
Feelings are happening. Uh oh.

Mireya peered into the refrigerator, spotting the fresh cuts of meat that Thwei-n’ritja had cut down for her. Blinking at them for a moment, she turned to face the block on the wall, realizing the time. 

He had finished long before she would have gotten the job done. 

“Huh. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

Pulling out the wrapped cuts, she closed the door of the cooler with her hip, turning around to find her face mere inches from a familiar alien stomach and torso. 

A loud yip escaped her as she jumped back, hitting the kitchen counter with a loud thud, dropping the cuts as her hands gripped the countertop. 

Thwei-n’ritja lunged to snatch the falling parcels, swiping them up moments before they hit the ground, his mandibles twitching as a shrill, chittering laugh erupted from his chest. 

Mireya flared up at him, clutching her chest with one hand before whapping his chest with her opposite fist. 

“Do not DO that! You scared the hell out of me!”

Thwei-n’ritja laughed harder, unmoving under her retaliating punches. 

Finally evening her breathing, she looked up at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“Alright, well, thanks for taking care of this for me… I promised you a meat heavy meal tonight, so I’ll get to it. Give me a bit and I can make up steaks or a roast or something.”

Thwei-n’ritja shook his head, raising the parcels higher so the woman couldn’t take them from his grasp when she reached for them. 

Confusion swept across her face as she squinted up at him. 

“Ritja… I can’t make food if you play keep away forever. And you might be able to, but I can’t eat raw meat…” 

Shaking his head again, he nodded towards the back door, walking towards it and waiting for her to open it. 

Her brows knit together as she followed along, opening the door for the alien who then trekked onto the deck, making his way just past it and towards the fire pit they had dug into the dirt of the backyard. 

Stones and logs surrounded it, sectioning it off, while it sat piled high with various dead branches and leaves, ready to be lit. A small stack of firewood sat nearby, ready to feed a fire. 

Thwei-n’ritja looked to the woman as he neared the pit, squatting. 

“I teach YOU to cook.” 

Mireya quirked a brow at him, amusement flickering across her expression. 

“Are you saying you don’t like my cooking?” 

Thwei-n’ritja paused what he was doing to glare up at her for a moment before continuing with his task at hand. 

Coming up next to him, Mireya sat herself on one of the felled logs, watching as the alien set to work. 

Pulling a long strip of cloth from the pack at his waist, he showed it to Mireya, saying something in his native tongue as he pointed to it. She assumed he was telling her the name. 

He then pulled another item from the pack, this one a vial filled with clear fluid, with something floating around in it. He repeated his actions, telling her the name of the item, and waiting for her to repeat it before continuing. 

Her intrigue growing, Mireya leaned in closer as she watched the alien work. 

Thwei-n’ritja noticed the woman nearly brushing up against him, trying to peak past his figure without having to leave her spot. 

Without a word, he readjusted, moving, so he sat across from her, giving her a better view. 

Any other time, this preparation would take him no time at all, but taking his time to ensure she was watching meant he used slow deliberate motions as he wrapped each piece of food, coating it in the fluid after it was sufficiently covered. 

Once it was wrapped and wet down, he passed the pieces to her, letting her inspect them. 

As she looked at it, he set about lighting the fire, kindling the tiniest spark until it was a roaring flame.

Mireya passed the large piece of wet cloth-wrapped meat in her hands back and forth, confusion and awe intertwining. She looked up at his towering figure. 

“Is this to store it? Like… to age it? I thought you were showing me how to cook, huh?”

Thwei-n’ritja laughed lowly before taking the wrapped piece from her hand… and chucking it directing into the heart of the fire. 

Mireya stared in horror for a moment before turning to look at Thwei-n’ritja again in confusion. 

“What… the hell?! I thought you would cook the meat not charcoal it!”

Thwei-n’ritja’s mandibles worked slowly, amusement in his eyes as he stared down the quickly angering woman. 

A low whistling sound and a pop caught her attention, making her glance at the pack of meat he had tossed into the flames. 

She watched as the cloth surround the flesh darkened, slowly turning black and hardening. The sound seemed to come from it; she realized. 

Pulling a long dagger from his belt, Thwei-n’ritja reached out, whacking the hard, black brickette that was forming. 

A sharp squeal and a hiss resounded from it as the cloth seemed to crack at the seams where it had been wrapped, steam rising out of it. 

Mireya’s mouth dropped in amazement as the gears in her mind began to turn, everything starting to slowly fall into place. 

Thwei-n’ritja reached forward a bit, knocking the blackened cloth loose from the fire until it was within reach. Ignoring the searing heat, he picked it up with ease, using his bare hands to squeeze and rub the cloth until the blackened charr fell away, softening the wrap enough for him to unwrap the cloth from the meat within. Once the cloth was fully unwound, he took it in his hand, running his other palm down it until the blackness fell away, leaving it looking pristine as it had been to begin with. 

Mireya stared on as he held out the steaming piece of meat to her in his bare hand. 

Nudging it towards her, his other hand rose ripping the massive chunk in two like it was paper. 

“Eat. Try.”

Before she could make a comment about eating bare handed, she reached up, taking the cooling meat from him. 

Leaning down, she took a tentative bite, amazement painting her face as it melted in her mouth like warm butter. Never in her life had she eaten something cooked so tenderly, albeit unseasoned. But just as is, it was one of the most amazing things she’d had the pleasure of tasting. 

She stared up at him, wide-eyed as she finished her bite. 

“Oh my GOD, Ritja, this is the best thing I have eaten in my entire life. Can I cook everything in those things from now on?” 

Thwei-n’ritja laughed loudly, his entire body quaking as his tusks clicked together. 

Mireya watched as he lifted his portion and tore at it with his teeth, pulling away bite-sized pieces with ease and swallowing them whole. She couldn’t help but burn the image into her head as he ate, enjoying watching him eat so naturally. 

Returning to her own food, they ate in companionable silence until their bellies were full to bursting. 

Mireya leaned back, watching the fire crackle and pop, her thoughts drifting as Thwei-n’ritja tended the burn pile. 

As she watched him tend the fire, her gaze drifted to the bandages still wound around his broad chest and thigh, her fingers snapping together as she recalled something. 

Thwei-n’ritja watched the woman curiously as she hefted herself up, returning to the cabin briefly, only to return with the bag of bandages she had been collecting by the back door after each changing. 

Wordlessly, she squat down next to the fire and began to feed the used supplies into the burn pile. 

Thwei-n’ritja tilted his head, squinting his eyes at her. 

Finally, the woman looked up at him, taking the knife he had been using to prod the fire from him to push some bandages further into the ash so they would burn better. 

“Just… covering tracks. Something tells me tossing your bandages in the trash wouldn’t bode well for either of us. Probably safest to burn any traces, right? Just in case.”

She shrugged as she prodded into the fire. 

Thwei-n’ritja couldn’t deny that the ooman’s foresight impressed him, and vaguely… what was the emotion? He couldn’t quite place it. But knowing that she put that thought into hiding him solidified his trust in her. 

His chest rumbled as he nodded in response. 

A cold wind blew across them, making them each tense for a moment. 

Thwei-n’ritja’s biomesh quickly adjusted, spreading warmth across his body and helping to adjust his core temperature. Even with it though, the slight bite of cold nipped at his exposed flesh, causing mild discomfort. 

He looked over to see Mireya shivering, still knelt by the fire, desperately trying to draw warmth from it. 

As silently as she had done mere moments ago, Thwei-n’ritja rose and walked away, returning with a bundle in his hands. 

He wrapped the animal pelt he had prepared for her around her shoulders, sitting down next to her. 

Mireya gripped the pelt in confusion, processing what it was for a moment before she connected the dots, comprehension setting in. She smiled, looking to the alien as she pulled the surrounding pelt tighter. 

“You really are amazing, you know that, Ritja?” 

Thwei-n’ritja chittered, smug satisfaction radiating off of him.

Making herself more comfortable, the pelt around her warding off the child in the air, she scooted closer to the alien. 

“The first snowfall hasn’t come yet, this year. It’s coming soon though. You can tell. Just… feel it in the air.”

She gave a knowing nod, as if it was self explanatory. Turning her chin upwards, she tilted her face up to look at his. 

“Aren’t you cold? Are you going to be okay once the snow comes? Or do I need to get you something? I have no idea how alien biology works so-”

Thwei-n’ritja cut the woman’s worried rambling off, silencing her by putting a hand on her lower face as he chittered in feign annoyance. 

“Am fine… prefer hot climate. Armor regulates heat.”

Mireya’s eyebrows pinched together as she pulled his hand down, taking a gasping breath before continuing on as if he had never stopped her.

“Armor? How? Sorry, Ritja, but you basically wear a midriff, how is that going to keep you warm?”

Sighing, Thwei-n’ritja grabbed the woman’s tiny hand in his grasp and slid it to his abdomen, threading her fingers underneath the biomesh so her hand was touching his bare flesh. 

Mireya’s breath froze in her throat as her fingers slid beneath the netting, touching the vitiligo pattern on the toned stomach below, just above his navel. She felt his muscles tense slightly at the contact, his skin there much smoother than it had been anywhere else she’d touched to treat his injuries. 

A growling voice broke her thoughts away, her breathing regulating again. 

“See? Warm.”

Mireya realized that where her fingers had been threaded underneath the netted material, she suddenly felt warmth emanating. Whatever the material was, it was regulating his temperature. 

Pulling her hand away from his abdomen, she fought the dusting of pink that desperately tried to rise on her cheeks. 

“F-fine. But if I can get you something to keep warm, and you don’t use it, I’ll be upset!” 

Thwei-n’ritja noted the ooman’s rising body temperature, storing away her reaction in his memory as he let out a gruff retort. 

“Stubborn ooman.”

The following weeks, the unlikely companions fell into somewhat of a routine; they spent days stocking up for the coming winter months. Mireya would go on hunts, sometimes alone, and sometimes with Thwei-n’ritja in toe. 

Once they arrived back, he would prepare the kills and pack them down for deep storage. Soon, they would have enough to last even an extended time, not that it should come down to that. 

Between those days, Mireya had tried to stock up the woodpile, chopping and gathering for the indoor fireplace and the burn pile. Thwei-n’ritja quickly put an end to that when he discovered her panting and straining to pull her axe from a partially split log. 

When she attempted to protest, he pointedly ripped it in half with his bare hands, telling her to go inside. 

He stocked the woodpile to overcapacity by nightfall, taking out his annoyance on the formerly unsplit pieces, growling out frustrated curses, both at himself and the woman the entire time.

Later, to calm his head, Thwei-n’ritja found himself within the cockpit of his ship, waiting on another scan of the nearby area to finish. His claws tapped at the dash, one at a time, as his patience thinned. 

Ever since his injuries had healed, he’d taken to coming back to his ship in any spare time that he could. Both so he could make repairs, and so he could try to hunt down the Bad Blood. Instead of finding A’ka-Ta directly, he’d only found a few solitary outbreaks of r’ka. He suspected that the rise in outbreaks was because of the other yautja, so he made a point of keeping track of where each was.

Each time, he’d quickly been able to eliminate the threats and destroy any signs of them. But he was quickly tiring of the runaround. 

Sitting around like this for this long hadn’t been in his plans. This kind of grunt work was suited to Youngbloods, not an Enforcer of his rank and reputation. 

A chirp resounded from his gauntlet, signalling completion of the scan. With far too much force, he sat forward and pulled up the hologram, desperately hoping for any sign of A’ka-Ta. Even another outbreak. Anything to busy his mind and bring him a step closer to capturing the nuisance. 

The thought flickered across his mind that he would make the other yautja’s death a painful one. 

His stare pierced the hologram angrily before slamming a fist into the dash, a frustrated snarl echoing off the walls of the ship. 

Collapsing back into his seat, Thwei-n’ritja pinched at the bridge between his eyes, his other hand balling into a fist so tightly his claws began to draw blood within his palm. 

The feeling of blood trailing past his fingers pulled him from his frustrated thoughts, pulling his hand upwards to stare at the bleeding indents in his palm. 

This was unlike him. He was calm. Collected. He knew how to play the long game. 

He was letting his prey get the best of him. 

Taking a steadying breath, he licked the blood from his palm, his heart rate finally slowing. The tension in his shoulders slipped away slightly. 

Why was he being so irrational? It was uncharacteristic. 

The realization that he had come to his ship in the first place to calm down after an altercation with the ooman woman nipped at the edges of his mind.

A low hum escaped his chest as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he pondered that fact. 

She was riling him up. He couldn’t deny is anymore. And he was letting it bleed over into his hunt. 

That couldn’t stand. 

He would have to distance himself from her, and quickly. He was fully healed now, after all. He could camp in his ship and manage better than in her primitive hut. 

The thought of not returning crossed his mind and his chest squeezed. Confusion etched across his brow and he pounded a fist on his chest, trying to beat the painful squeeze away. He must be unwell. An Earthborne illness? He hadn’t heard of other yautja experiencing this before. 

He recalled the food supply he and the ooman woman had stocked up on in the past weeks, and the pelts. 

Nodding to himself, he reasoned out that it was… practical to return. He had rations on the ship, but why resort to them when there was a ready food supply a mere moments run from here. 

His decision made, he stood from his seat with new vigor and strode from his ship, the painful squeeze in his chest finally seeming to fade, replaced with a hard thumping as his heart pounded. 

Mireya stepped out of the bathtub with a heaving breath, gripping the edge for a moment as a dizzy spell overtook her. Giving herself a moment’s pause, she let her equilibrium return, the world slowly stopping spinning as she stood upright fully with an intentional slowness. 

She took slow, even breaths as she grabbed a towel, wicking away the posture that lingered on her skin. Glancing down at her stomach, she ran a damp hand over her protruding belly. She was starting to really show finally. More than a bump, she was ‘popping’ and gaining that distinct curve that showed her pregnancy no matter what she did. 

She was still far from term, but something about the burst in growth lately made the realism sink in all the more. Especially since, as of late, the little one growing within her had been growing more and more active. She couldn’t seem to go an hour without feeling a kick in her organs or against her skin now. 

Tracing her thumb over her most recently visible stretch mark, dark and angry against her tan skin, the corner of her mouth tilted up. 

A sigh escaped her as she wrapped the towel in her hair, not bothering to cover up before making her way up the stairs and towards the open bedroom in the loft. 

Thwei-n’ritja had disappeared a few hours ago, as he did occasionally, meaning he probably wouldn’t be back for a while longer. 

Thoughts of the alien filled Mireya’s mind as she pulled out a long sleeve shirt and a plaid button up, and some comfortable leggings and thick socks. 

Taking her time, she pulled on each article of clothing, noting that it wouldn’t be long until she would struggle with her socks at her current rate of growth. 

She wished she could go visit her doctor, but knew it was out of the question. 

The realization that the cherub-faced woman may not even be alive anymore made Mireya freeze and tears welled in her eyes. 

Shaking away the thought, she took a deep breath and placed a hand on her stomach, talking quietly to the little one inside. 

“You’ll be okay.”

As if in response, a fluttering ‘thump’ pressed against her hand before calming again, making her stomach churn. 

A smile crossed her face, and she chuckled. 

“Yeah… now how about a nap? Mom is tired…” 

Exhaustion finally seeping into her every joint, Mireya didn’t even both wriggling under the covers of the bed. Turning onto her side, she curled up in the thin, worn down pillows on the bed and drifted off into a world of restless dreams. 

Mireya’s restless slumber didn’t last for long, jarred awake by an all too familiar, sharp pain clenching in her stomach. 

Her hand gripped her abdomen as pain contorted her face, a groan rumbling in her throat. 

“Ohhh… fuck… damnit, no… Okay. Okay. We’re okay.” 

She spoke through her teeth, soothing herself through each sharp cramp. She had thought she had been lucky enough to be past this. She hadn’t had any pain like this in weeks. Apparently, the strain of trying to chop firewood earlier had been too much though. 

She mentally cursed herself, biting down on her tongue. Her mind raced as the worst-case scenarios came to the forefront of her mind. 

“No. No… it’s nothing like that. Everything is okay. I know what to watch for. I’ve been through this.” 

Fighting back the thought, she tried to breathe through the worst of the pains until they began to ebb away. 

Sweat had gathered at her neck, clinging to her collar. Wiping it away, she took a deep breath and carefully sat up, bracing her stomach. 

Closing her eyes, she focused on how she felt. No more pain. Okay, check. 

She waited a few minutes until she felt the familiar flutter of movement, seemingly unperturbed from the seizing only moments before.

A relieved breath escaped her. 

Standing up on unsteady legs, she waddled to the bathroom. As she feared, she had been bleeding some. 

She noted the amount and color, relief washing over her as she noted no mucous plug or amniotic fluids. 

Using a cloth, she cleaned herself completely, her body practically melting into a puddle as her anxiety ebbed from a waterfall to a slow trickle as she completed her self-examination. 

While bleeding at all wasn’t good, it was better than the alternative. A sigh escaped her as she redressed in fresh leggings. 

Grabbing the now bloody clothes and towels, she brought them downstairs, giving them a sour look before heading to the utility sink next to the dual washer and dryer. 

Turning on the faucet, she grumbled under her breath, the start of another dizzy spell threatening to overtake her. Gripping onto the edge of the sink, she couldn’t help but jump when the sound of the back door slamming open startled her. 

Mireya’s head whipped up to stare at the Predator who now stood menacingly in her doorway. Cool wind drifted in behind him as he stood in the open frame, watching her intently from behind his familiar mask. 

Forcing a slight smile, she gave him a wave. “You’re back sooner than usual, Ritja. Everything okay? That’s one hell of an entrance.” 

Behind his mask, Thwei-n’ritja’s senses were in overdrive. The scent of fresh blood wafted through the room, sending his pulse racing. 

He had only picked up the scent moments ago, as he neared the doorway, but it immediately sent him into high alert. Scanning the room, he saw no threat, quickly turning his attention to the ooman woman. 

Stalking over to her, he looked her over and saw no visible signs of injury. 

It wasn’t until he saw the bloody towels in her hands that a growl rose in his throat. 

Wrapping a large hand around her wrist, he stared down at her, his words coming out hurried as his instincts took over. 

“Where are you injured? What happened? Someone here?” 

Confusion masked Mireya’s features for a moment until she realized he was talking about the bloody clothes she was washing. Her face flushed a bright red, and she turned her face away, pulling her arm from his massive hand. 

At her insistence, Thwei-n’ritja let go of her, watching the ooman woman’s face flush as she turned away, her temperature rising. 

“Oh! I’m okay, Ritja! I promise! It’s okay…” 

Thwei-n’ritja hummed in disapproval at the answer, the sound vibrating through the air and making the hair on the back of Mireya’s neck stand on end. 

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Thwei-n’ritja tried to soften his tone, but the slight bite was still notably there. 

“Tell… Ritja?”

Mireya’s heart squeezed as the alien used the shortened nickname for himself, manipulating her heartstrings. Whether it was intentional was still to be seen. Either way, it was working, and she hated that. 

Sighing, she turned around, slipping her tiny hand to his and gripping it. She felt like a child holding an adult's hand because of the sheer size difference. He absolutely dwarfed her in every way. 

Looking up, her mouth tilted downward on one side. 

“I’m not ‘injured’, Ritja. I promise… you understand already that I’m, well, that I’m pregnant. A… what’s the term you used… child bearer?” 

Thwei-n’ritja nodded as she spoke, vaguely showing her stomach. 

“I have a complication, that makes carrying my… my child dangerous. It makes me bleed. I get dizzy and sick and get headaches. It’s… I’ll be okay. It’s just dangerous if I bleed out when I give birth.” 

Thwei-n’ritja processed her broken, emotional words as her voice started to waver. 

He understood most of what she was saying. Swapping his view on his mask, he scanned her, suddenly able to see the young inside of her, and the surrounding anatomy, verifying his suspicions of what she had been relaying. 

Mireya forced a breathy laugh, squeezing the large fingers in her grip. “So, see? I’m not hurt… I just… wasn’t feeling good…”

Thwei-n’ritja nodded slightly at her remark. 

Pausing, he knelt down, facing her as he took off his biomask. The same painful squeezing sensation filled his chest, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe for a moment as he eyed her, mulling over his words. 

Finally speaking up, he lifted the hand that wasn’t held in her grasp, threading it through her thick hair for a moment. 

“Will protect, Mireya… Will protect… youngling.” 

He glanced to her stomach as she watched him, blinking slowly at the words. 

A smile played at her lips before she gripped his hand tighter, tugging it towards herself and pressing it to her stomach. 

His large hand gingerly pressed to the swell of her stomach, large against the side, taking up most of one side of her. His eyes whipped up to stare at her in confusion for a moment, the motion foreign to him. 

Smiling wider at him, she pressed her hand over his, motioning her other hand at him to wait. 

After a moment, he felt a flutter of motion from within her before a sharp kick pressed to his palm. Yanking his hand away, his mandibles clicked together as he stared at her stomach, awe masking his face. 

Mireya laughed loudly, her chest heaving. As she caught her breath, her soft smile returned, catching his attention. 

“My youngling says thank you, Ritja…” 

Thwei-n’ritja let out a low chitter in his throat, his hands reaching out again and pressing to her stomach curiously, both of his hands holding her stomach tenderly. It was only a moment before he felt more tiny movements, this time not taking him so off guard. 

The thought crossed his mind that this feeling should unsettle him more. Yautja females didn’t allow males near them during gestation, and the only gestations he had much experience around were animals or r’ka. 

But the feeling under his hands, below the tender, soft skin, mesmerized him. 

Rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her belly, returning the tiny touches that he etched into his memory, he pressed the crest of his brow against the taunt spance of her belly, and made a silent vow to protect her and the young within her even if it cost his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Some notes for all my lovely follows and readers~  
For all ya thirsties, we're finally going up to Explicit rating soon. RuhRoh!  
You heard me right! Some time in the next few chapters your favorite duo are gunna finally cave to the building tension and seal the deal~
> 
> I'll leave a warning in the notes section at the beginning of said chapter so anyone NOT interested in graphic yautja intercourse can skip past it. But for the rest of you, look forward to it!
> 
> Now on to this week's installment.   
Emotions are forced to the forefront when Mireya is thrust into a dangerous situation.  
A secret is revealed~

Mireya strode towards the lake until the massive Predator came into view. Thwei-n’ritja stood waist deep in the chilly waters, staring into the far off depths intently, his focus on a shimmering spot reflecting under the surface a few feet away.

Next to his head, he held his combistick, fully extended, ready to throw it like a javelin at any moment.

Mireya smirked and stopped walking, watching the frozen alien work.

She knew he could hear her. He was just focused on his target. 

Like the snap of a bowstring, Thwei-n’ritja launched the spear into the water directly at the shimmering spot a few yards away. A hearty chuckle rose from the alien’s chest as his tusks clicked together in satisfaction. 

Wading towards the combistick that now stuck out of the water, he yanked it from the muck with a hard tug and showed his prize to the woman waiting for him at the shore. 

On the pronged end of his combistick were 3 massive fish, struggling to gasp their final breaths. 

Mireya rolled her eyes, sighing as she slowly clapped her gloved hands together for the Predator who was still bursting with pride over his catch. “Good job, Ritja. I never should have showed you spear fishing; you will fish my lake dry, and it’s not even spring!” 

She laughed breathily, despite her complaint. 

The yautja waded out of the water, drawing the fresh fish to his mouth and taking a bite out of one as his eyes shone with pride and mischief. Mireya gulped, ignoring the sloppy bites he took out of the fish as she tried to ignore the water dripping down his figure. 

Turning away, she adjusted the bow in its holster on her back. Thwei-n’ritja eyed it, only just noticing the item, visibly perking up. “Going out to hunt?” 

He silently wondered whether he should tail her. He secretly loved watching her hunt solo, as much as he enjoyed accompanying her. Either way, it would satisfy him. 

Mireya nodded, watching him remove the second fish and crunch into it with ease, watching her intently as he awaited an answer like a dog hoping for a treat. 

A smile crossed her face as she sighed. “I wanted to get one last hunt in before the snow set it. Especially since I don’t want to be trekking in the snow after I get to be big as a planet.” 

She showed her swollen stomach with a laugh. 

Thwei-n’ritja nodded knowingly, rubbing his chin as if he completely understood.

Smirking up at the alien, Mireya placed gloved hands at her hips and nodded towards the treeline. “Since it’s the last one for a while, you want to come with? I’m sure you’ll make sure we’re back in no time!” 

Thwei-n’ritja’s mandibles flared wide as he returned the smirk. 

Scarfing the last fish, he jogged over to his mask and put it on, voicing his agreement in his native tongue under his breath. 

Mireya laughed as she caught bits and pieces of what he was saying. She was far from a linguist, but having spent the past weeks around the alien, she was picking up fragments of his language. 

She couldn’t speak a lick, the sounds too harsh in her throat, but she could understand fragments when he slipped into his native tongue now. 

She felt pride swell in her chest at that fact, smiling to herself as the alien began to trek towards her. 

Holding out her elbow, she waited while he stared at it in confusion. 

Shaking it at him, she muttered at him. “Go on, link yours in mine, you big lizard!” 

Annoyed curses huffed out from under his helmet as he reluctantly slid his arm into hers, staring at her from behind the mask incredulously. 

Mireya beamed at the annoyed Predator and tugged at his downward tugged arm, drawing him toward the treeline, and towards their hunt. 

Once they made it to the treeline, Mireya let go of Thwei-n’ritja’s arm, parting from him so he could follow along from the treetops, as he preferred. 

She found she liked it that way too. Having a bird’s vantage point was helpful, and she enjoyed having him scout ahead for danger or prey. 

It meant she didn’t have to be as wary of danger this year. 

That fact was exactly why she had grown lax. She hadn’t thought to differentiate and explain to Thwei-n’ritja the difference in animals to warn her of or to scout for. 

Thwei-n’ritja landed on the ground, near Mireya, fully cloaked. She could make out the vague shimmer of his cloaking technology as it stalked near her, leaning down to whisper into her ear. 

“Prey. Vear left, just ahead.” 

Mireya smirked and nodded, pulling her bow from her back and nocking an arrow. 

They had done this dozens of times now. 

Thwei-n’ritja scouting prey, then watching, enjoying the thrill of watching the tiny ooman take down the creature. 

Strangely enough, Mireya found herself getting a thrill out of the arrangement as well. 

Creeping along as quietly as she could muster, she heard leaves shuffling and the sound of muffled snuffling. 

Her grin widened, and she drew back her arrow, grazing the side of her chin as the creature came into view. 

Thwei-n’ritja felt his pulse race as the woman’s own began to spike, the motion of the bowstring being drawn the signal that the hunt was about to reach its climax. 

Suddenly, Mireya’s pulse froze though. Her breath froze in her throat and her smile turned into warped horror as the creature came into view, glancing up to stare her directly in the eyes. 

“Oh, God…” Her voice came out as a strangled whisper as realization set in. 

He didn’t know. He had no way of knowing. But dear Gods. 

Fear sent adrenaline coursing through her body as she silently withdrew her arrow from its position, un-nocking it and slipping it into her quiver as her breathing quickened. 

Confusion ebbed through Thwei-n’ritja as he watched Mireya put away her weapon with shaking fingers. He scented the adrenaline filling her veins and worry began to course through him. 

Something was wrong. He eyed the creature more cautiously. It was larger than other prey she had brought down, sure, but he had thought it would thrill her for the challenge. Had he been wrong? 

Mireya started to crawl backwards slowly, trying to back away from the massive brown bear as calmly as possible. 

The creature watched her intently, low huffing noises rising in its throat as it watched her. 

The sound made Mireya’s hair stand on end on the back of her neck. Brown bears would usually leave you along, but it they were hungry or territorial, they would get aggressive, she recalled. Huffing and growling were precursors to that. 

She held up a shaking hand and stumbled back slightly, her opposite hand dropping her bow in her panic to grab her bear spray from her pocket. 

Silent curses raced through her mind as she remembered leaving it back at the cabin. She’d grown too comfortable having Thwei-n’ritja tagging along. Too comfortable and too safe feeling with the massive Predator around to bring precautionary measures. 

Her shaking hand slid to her stomach as the bear started to audibly growl at her, rising on its rear legs, trying to intimidate her further. 

From the treetops, Thwei-n’ritja watched, frozen in place at the scene unfolding before him. 

Pieces started to click into place. 

‘Ah.’ he realized. ‘It’s no prey. It’s a predator…’ 

Thwei-n’ritja almost felt as if he was dissociating. As if he were watching the scene unfold and realizing the fact in some distant corner of his mind and watching it like an informative projection from his days as a sucker. 

He snapped out of his daze when he saw Mireya stumbled back, clambering back on all fours as she tried to scramble away from the creature. The large creature reared up before her, roaring menacingly at her as it prepared to swipe at her and her gestating young. 

Thwei-n’ritja felt his body move before he could tell it to, his very veins flooding with the same chemical he could taste coming off the woman in waves. 

Letting his cloaking fade away, he landed between the creature and his mate and their young it dared threaten. 

‘His mate?’ He would have to think on that instinctual reaction later. He needed to act, and quickly. 

Pulling his mask from his face, exposing his raw rage to the creature, he threw it to the ground. Easily matching the beast’s voice, he roared venomously, letting every ounce of his anger at the beast pour from his throat as his mandibles stretched wide in a primal cry. Thwei-n’ritja’s arms spread wide, his full size seeming to make even the creature second guess it’s decision to pursue the human. 

It was too late though. It made its mistake. It had been a hair’s length from harming Mireya and her child. 

Before either could blink, Thwei-n’ritja’s wrist gauntlet released from its sheath and he slammed it into the beast’s belly, drawing up the creature’s stomach until it touched its chin, splitting its underside in two. 

A second primal scream echoed through the woods as Thwei-n’ritja flicked the blood from his wrist gauntlet before sheathing the weapon again. 

The sound of the woman panting behind him made him halt, dropping the now dead beast, letting the bleeding corse sag to the ground as hot organs slopped out of it, onto the forest floor. 

Thwei-n’ritja knelt by the woman, noting the tears in her eyes as she clutched her stomach, starting at the now dead beast. Her heart rate was still elevated, as was her pulse. He swapped his scanners and saw that was the case for her child too. 

Sitting down, he pulled he into himself, letting his chest purr and thrum as he rests his chin on her head. He ignored the part of his brain that questioned his actions and followed the primal instinct that told him to do so to calm her, to keep her okay. Her safety was the priority. 

Mireya felt numb as she stared at the corpse of the brown bear. Everything had happened so quickly. 

The sound of a low purr resonating from Ritja’s chest slowly started to lull her, easing her to her very core as it pulled her mind from that stunned, scared place she had sunk into out of fear for her and her child’s life. Leaning back into his chest, she realized she felt him playing with a strand of her hair and tilted her head up, looking up at the Predator after he lifted his chin from her hair. 

Concerned eyes locked with hers as he stopped pulling his claws through her thick locks subconsciously. 

“Mireya okay?”

Mireya paused for a moment, mentally taking a tally of herself. She looked down and rubbed a hand over her stomach and focused on the feeling of her own pulse and breathing. All seemed calmer now. She was curious about that. Only moments before she felt like she was seizing up out of fear and was in enough pain to cause a bleed.

She looked back up to him and nodded. “Yeah… Yeah, I am. Thank you, Ritja.” 

Thwei-n’ritja let out a relieved huff before glancing over her swollen stomach. 

“Youngling okay?”

Mireya smiled and laughed breathily. Grabbing his hand, she pulled it forward, wrapping his arm around her until it touched her belly, pressing his palm to it. 

She nodded and leaned back into the alien’s chest with a soft sigh. “Yeah. They’re okay, Ritja. Thanks to you.”

Thwei-n’ritja nodded slightly, holding her in his arms until he felt the youngling inside of her move. 

After some time had passed, Thwei-n’ritja carried Mireya back to the cabin. She had tried to argue that she was fine to walk back, but he was having none of it, easily picking her up and carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all. 

Having quickly realized her fighting was in vain, Mireya sighed in defeat and let the alien carry her back, placing her on the back porch before disappearing again without a word. 

Tossing her arms in the air in her exasperation, she entered the cabin, deciding to go about preparing food hoping the smell would lure the alien back home. 

Off in the distance, Thwei-n’ritja watched her enter the cabin, ensuring that she safely made her way inside before returning to finish his planned task. 

Now that he was solo, he made much quicker time back to the creature’s corpse. He growled down at the ‘bear’, as Mireya had told him they called it. He almost felt like kicking the creature. 

A wave of shame washed over him; he had put Mireya in the situation against it. That he had put her in danger in her current state. She had explained that if she weren’t pregnant and had been properly equipped, it wouldn’t have been as much of a danger. It made him frustrated with himself. 

For someone as well informed about the universe, and as well versed about ooman-kind, he suddenly felt like an ignorant sucker. 

Thwei-n’ritja snarled at the creature’s corpse, reaching down and lifting it up to stare at it, inspecting it. Once he’d memorized its face, he went about gutting the beast, making it easier to transport the meat and the rest of the body to his ship. 

This creature he would prepare properly, for it daring to touch his ooman. 

There were those words again. 

He mulled over them this time, a slight irritation licking at the edges of his mind as he wondered why he suddenly felt so possessive over Mireya. Why he felt so protective over her and her young.

Thwei-n’ritja was still pondering over the thought when he came upon his ship, dropping the bear’s corpse to the ground and dragging it aboard. 

Lifting it up, he slammed the massive beast onto a table for preparation and began to work instinctually. It didn’t take much thought to adjust for minor anatomy differences to prepare the skin or skull of the creature. Especially since he’d had practice with only his portable tools and other Earth prey Mireya and he had caught over the past weeks. 

This, he took his time with, though. Even as he zoned out, his mind busy with cluttered thoughts, he took his time to put every ounce of loathing at the creature into the satisfaction of preparing its hide and skull to be put on display. 

Thwei-n’ritja cleansed a tool that had coated in the creature’s blood. 

A sudden flashback of Mireya washing bloodied clothes and towels returned to his mind and he froze, realization sinking in as a growl resonated low in his throat. 

It wasn’t sudden at all. That was it. It crept up on him. 

He was content being alone. When was the last time he could even stand being around another creature for more than a few moments? He honestly couldn’t recall. 

Thwei-n’ritja wiped the now clean bear skull with his bare fingers, tracing the shape with his claws as he stared it down. 

Raising the skull up to his face, his widened his mandibles at it, the ripped side on his left spreading especially wide as he snarled at it. 

This happened to anything that tried to hurt her. 

He nodded to himself and walked to his trophy room, placing it on top of a tall stack, looking proudly into the room as if it was one of his most valuable pieces. 

As of now, maybe it was. 

Returning to the preparation room, he grabbed up the pelt he had already finished prepping and mulled over what to do with it before wrapping it around his shoulders, letting it drape down his back. 

A snarling laugh rose from his chest as the thought crossed his mind. 

‘Let it serve as a warning…’ 

On the way back to the cabin, Thwei-n’ritja noticed a sudden shift in the weather. A distinct wetness began to linger in the air as the temperature began to drop rapidly. 

Hurrying back as quickly as he could, he mentally made a note that the pelt was useful against this weather. His biomesh was keeping him plenty warm, but the pelt was helping guard his body from the wetness pelting him from above. He silently rued the idea of admitting he was wrong to the ooman, but made a note to. Eventually. 

The cabin finally in sight, he felt the tightness in his chest ease when Mireya’s face appeared, waiting for him in one of the upstairs windows as she stared listlessly into the falling sleet. 

Thwei-n’ritja couldn’t fight the smug look behind his mask, the temptation to tease the ooman far too strong. Even as a sucker he had never been very playful, but something about riling up the woman brought it out of him in full force. 

With all the stealth of a practiced assassin, Thwei-n’ritja scaled the outside of the cabin, silently crawling onto the slanted roof over the cracked window. 

Using a cloaked claw, he muffled a chittering snicker as he creaked the window open, watching the woman blink in confusion as the window opened. 

“That’s what I get for leaving the window open in the start of a blizzard…” Mireya sighed and reach outwards, grabbing the window to pull it closed as she muttered under her breath and frowned. 

“I hope Ritja comes home soon… I don’t want him to get cold…” 

Thwei-n’ritja froze, his heart leaping into his chest as he had been about to pull the window open again to further tease the woman. 

Why was she thinking about him when he wasn’t around? 

Thwei-n’ritja lunged, grabbing the window moments before Mireya could fully close it, letting his cloaking devise shimmer away until he was fully visible. 

Leaning down, he chittered deep in his chest, opening the window and slipping into the open window easily, landing on his feet and staring down at the ooman woman. 

“Not… cold…”

Mireya flushed darkly as she realized he had been listening. Leaning forward, she playfully punched him on the arm before turning away. “Ay, you can be such a creep, Ritja!” 

Her fingers nervously rubbed together, lifting to brush a strand of hair behind her ear as she continued to avoid looking at him. 

“I’m glad you’re back though… Looks like we’re finally getting that first snow, and it’s all slush and blizzard. We might get snowed in. We better bunker down, like I’ve warned you about.” 

Mireya leaned out the window and pulled it closed again, locking it securely before closing the curtains tight. 

Thwei-n’ritja nodded, heading downstairs to see that she had already prepared the fireplace and brought a section of firewood up from the cellar. 

Upon seeing the firewood, he turned around, giving her a stern glare. Even through the mask, Mireya could feel the disappointed stare, raising her hands up defensively. A forced laugh escaped her. “I didn’t strain myself! I promise! Next trip is all you, big guy. I only brought up small pieces, check for yourself!” 

Thwei-n’ritja muttered under his breath in his native tongue for a moment, shaking his head as he began to make himself comfortable in front of the fire, picking up a cut of meat and cheese had prepared and left out while he’d been gone. 

Mireya bristled at his words, catching more of it than she had missed. 

“I am not stupid, and I am fully capable of taking care of myself! Stop treating me like I’m crippled! I’m pregnant, not useless!” 

Thwei-n’ritja stopped everything he was doing, frozen with a piece of meat halfway to his mouth.

Mireya’s face flushed red and one of her hands flew to her mouth. “Uh… I mean…” 

She realized her mistake the moment her lips had started moving, but she was too angry to care. She was tired of his snide comments when he thought she couldn’t understand him. 

Up until now, she had, afterall, been picking up a fair bit of his language. 

She had not yet informed him that she had pieced as much of it together as she had. 

Perks of already being multilingual. It gives you a leg up on learning new languages. 

Maybe not so much on keeping that fact hidden from your alien roommate though. 

Thwei-n’ritja glanced up at Mireya, and in his native tongue growled out. _“You can understand?”_

Mireya visibly flinched and looked away, nodding. “Not much. Bits and pieces. I can’t say it, but I’m good at figuring out languages if I hear them alot…”

Thwei-n’ritja stared at the ooman for a moment, unsure whether to be furious or in awe at her. 

Instead he chose exasperation. 

Placing his food back on the table, he leaned back against the couch, sighing loudly. Drawing a weary hand down his face, he let a tired stare land on the ooman woman. 

_“What am I going to do with you?”_

Mireya seemed to focus on the sounds for a moment as she processed the meaning before smiling awkwardly and shrugging. “I, uh…. I dunno… Is that… Is that a literal question? Or is… Is this a problem or something?”

Thwei-n’ritja stared intently at the ooman woman, taking in every detail on her nervous face for a moment. The realization that this brought another depth, a dangerous depth, to her knowing of his existence was sinking in for him. 

If another yautja found out that she knew even the bare minimum of their language and could parse it out, she would be eliminated. 

He shook his head in frustration as he thought about the utter danger she had put herself into without even realizing it. 

“Why?” He asked, this time in English. 

“Why, what?” Confusion crossed her brow. 

“Why try to learn yautja language?” Thwei-n’ritja pressed, staring at her. 

Mireya’s confusion only seemed to grow. “Wait… what’s ‘yautja’? Is that… Is that what you are?”

Thwei-n’ritja nodded. “Not ‘Predator’.” He touched the bear pelt on his shoulders. “This is a predator. I am yautja.” 

His point made, he pressed a fist to his chest as he stared her down. 

“Humans called us that.” 

Mireya nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Yautja…” She zoned out for a moment, letting the feel of the word tumble over her tongue. 

His impatience growing, Thwei-n’ritja leaned forward, a large hand gripping Mireya’s as he tried to pull her from her thoughts and back to the matter at hand. 

“Why try to learn yautja language, Mireya? Important.” 

Mireya noted the stern look in the yautja’s eyes as he pressed the issue, his grip on her hand tightening. A lump started to swell in her throat.

“U-um… I just… I don’t know. I just… wanted to know more about you?”

An unfamiliar feeling washed over Thwei-n’ritja, mixing with his unease and leaving behind a sorrow tinged guilt. 

Lifting a hand to her cheek, he slid the pad of his thumb across her face, as gently as he could muster. 

A sigh escaped him and he looked into her nervous eyes before glancing at the falling snow outside. It was indeed starting to pile up. They’d be stuck inside for awhile. At least, she would. 

Slipping his arm around her, he tugged her closer, until she was seated between his legs. 

He mentally berated himself for what he was about to do, but something inside of him couldn’t stop. 

“What do you want to know?”

Mireya froze and turned her head, staring up at the yautja’s face. “Wait… are you serious?” 

Thwei-n’ritja nodded slowly, though his insides were turning and he felt more unsure of himself than he had before any hunt in his entire life. 

Grey eyes lit up like starlight as she scooted around in his lap, nearly straddling him. “I want to know everything…”

Another nod was all Thwei-n’ritja gave her initially, his eyes closing as he took a breath, reaching up and raking his nails through her hair to calm himself as he began relaying information to her. 

He told her a general idea of what yautja were. Where his kind were from, and about their hunts. He paused, unsure how she would react when he spoke of them, and letting her ask questions when she needed to. She took everything surprisingly in stride, eager to know the information and taking it all in very matter of factly. 

She asked him if he had hunted humans, and he replied honestly, that yes he had. He also told her of his rank as an Enforcer and what it entailed. 

That seemed to intrigue her greatly, though she asked very few questions about it. 

He told her how his current mission as an Enforcer was what brought him to her planet, and of the bad blood he was tracking. Thwei-n’ritja surprised himself and even told her of the r’ka as well, explaining that A’ka-Ta was using them, and in what way. He explained the connection to her and her father, and during those moments she grew quiet and distant. 

Thwei-n’ritja even considered halting his story, but she encouraged him to continue, thanking him for giving her an explanation and closure. 

By the time he was done, he felt like he had spoken more in either language than he had in his entire lifetime. Maybe he had. 

He’d had to slip between his native tongue and English multiple times to try to sufficiently explain certain things to her. 

Glancing to the window across the room, he realized it was late into the night. Many hours had passed; he had in fact talked for longer than he had ever before. That felt… strange.

Looking down at the woman lying on his lap, he pet her hair gently. Leaning over her, he grabbed a chunk of firewood and hurled it into the dying embers, the wood cracking and splitting upon impact before the flames began to lick at it and dance up the edges. 

The yautja’s fingers immediately returned to their place in the woman’s hair, the fire now tended. 

“Mireya okay?”

The head on his knee nodded slightly, the motion soft and gentle under his hand. “Mhmm. It’s just…” 

The woman turned her head to look up at him, and to his surprise, he found nothing but amazement in them. 

“I already knew you were amazing, Ritja… and I just… I KNEW you had to come from something amazing. BE something amazing. And I know what you’ve told me isn’t even the tip of the iceberg and it’s just… so AMAZING. You, Ritja! You’re amazing!”

Thwei-n’ritja chittered softly, a single claw scratching awkwardly at his neck as his mandibles clicked together. 

His attention was drawn back to the soft woman in his lap when he felt a tender hand trace the torn flap of skin between his left mandibles, making him jump. He immediately stared down at Mireya, his eyes wide as she withdrew only long enough to let him calm down, shushing him soothingly before tracing her fingers over the scar. 

“Plus… you protected us today, Ritja… and I never thanked you for that… so… thank you…”

Pushing herself up from his lap, Mireya leaned upwards towards Thwei-n’ritja’s mandibles, pressing a chaste, tender kiss to the parted scar on the side of his face. As she pulled away, she heard a slight croak escape his throat as he stared at her in confusion, his eyes wide. 

A deep flush crept up her neck and cheeks, a harsh red rising from under her skin. The corner of her mouth quirked into a slight smile as she stood up and made her way upstairs, taking no time at all to tuck herself into bed and bury herself under her sheets for the rest of the night to escape her embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!   
It was a rollercoaster. Whew.


End file.
